Slipping through my fingers

A suitcase was packed that night as well, a small case with functional items. What was not in it and yet bore heavily on me was a bitter sweet sense of a new beginning.  I was heading to the hospital to deliver my first child.  The baby ready to break free, I scared of the labour, unsure of the responsibility and missing my freedom already.

It has been a wonderful 18 years since that night. Multiple suitcases are being packed at the moment. They all lie open in her room. Shoes, clothes, books and curry pastes vying for space giving in only to the dogs who want to be packed as well. The mess always bothered me, all these years I have screamed myself hoarse about the clutter in her room but now I know the mess shall be missed. It is time for another new beginning.  She is ready to break free again. I am scared to let her go, unsure of how she will cope in a faraway land and missing her already.

Year 12 for us has been like the last page of a favourite book, speeding along to the end of a quest with an apprehensive emptiness waiting at the finish line. Each day had an adventure of its own, deadlines, essays, scores, mocks, SATs, applications and not to forget the endless parties, farewells and night outs. We laughed, fought and sulked through it all in equal measure. Doors were slammed and horns were locked, however the laughs were easy and often. Each day she inched closer to her independence. Each day I held on to the past. Both of us changing, both of us fluid, she in control, I just trying to breathe.

Standing among the accumulation of the life of a little girl she no longer is, I look at myself in her mirror. Am I too old to enjoy the wonder of the unknown? Too selfish maybe or just the same old me trying to hold on to things the way they were. She enters the room with a grin, “It is strange you know how my friends were all teary eyed today.”  Flinging her bag on her bed she flops on the floor petting the dog. “Of course I will miss them, but it is time to make new friends. Is it not? I think it’s silly to moan. ” I quickly check the mirror again for an errant tear, god forbid. Sometimes thoughts escape involuntarily and form words that are audible. I can’t believe myself saying it even as I do, “You have been home for 18 years, won’t you miss us?” These are the moments when you want your hand to physically close your mouth shut. Thankfully the words are not suspended in the air for long and my girl shows no hint of having caught the immense baggage the lines carried. “There’s Whatsapp, Skype.. what’s to miss. You will practically see me pooping if you want.” She gets busy on her phone and the dog and I leave her alone.

At dinner she has her University reading list up for discussion. Over rice and fish we debate various sources of procuring the 12 books. Amazon wins hands down. It has got all the books and will ship them in time. Talk about being ready, everyone seems to be ganging up on poor old me. Not like a few books less would have made a difference to travel dates, but one can hope.

I think of all the times we lay under the covers reading pop-up books, Enid Blytons and a host of other mystery stories. In the later years we continued this ritual by reading each other’s fiction and untold facts. Her legs propped over my body, her curls always in the way of her reading and my heart in wonder of the precious time. I take courage from the fact that I can see her poop if I want and tread on thin ice, “So once you are on your own, will you add me to your social media?”

“Are you serious ma? No way!” she laughs and dinner is done.

She is ready, happy, and rearing to step forward. Her joy is infectious and a balm to my spirit. I ready myself to my own journey with a twice cut umbilical cord. 

Are all new beginnings this bitter sweet?

High stakes - a fiction based on indian mythology by Toshali

Draupadi was an Indian princess born out of fire to King Drupada of Panchala. Arjuna, the third Pandava, won the challenge put forth by Drupada for the princess’ swayamwara, thus winning Draupadi’s hand in marriage. When the Panadavas reached home with Draupadi, their mother Kunti, as was her habit, asked the brothers to share whatever they had “won” and thus Draupadi became the wife to five brothers.

High stakes alludes to the game of dice played between the oldest Kaurava and Pandava princes: Duryodhana and Yudhishthira.The Pandava prince continued playing, in spite of losing his palace and wealth. His pride did not allow him to accept defeat. Finally, when there was nothing else to lose, he wagered his wife Draupadi and lost her too. Duryodhana attempted to disrobe Draupadi in front of the entire court while her husbands watched helplessly. Draupadi vowed to avenge this humiliation and not tie her hair until she bathed it in the Kaurava prince’s blood.

In 2014, around a 100 women celebrities ranging from A-listers to D-listers had their nude images exposed on the Internet by hackers who broke into iCloud’s then flawed system by “brute force” attack. The most shocking part of this scandal was the number of people who chose to blame the celebrities for taking naked pictures rather than the hackers who invaded their privacy. This modern day scenario that plagued the western world is in many ways similar to the disrobing of the mythical Indian princess Draupadi. The following fictional story is set in America in 2015/2016 and tells the story of Drew Rudi. Drew parallels Draupadi and AJ and Ray parallel Arjuna and Yudhishthira respectively.

---

“Draupadi’s eyes flashed fire. ‘I shall never forgive the Kauravas for doing what they have done to me. I shall not tie my hair until I wash it in Dusshasana’s blood’”

- Devdutt Pattanaik

---

28th December, 2015

“Drew Rudi’s name is added to the ever growing list of celebrities whose nudes have been leaked. With over 500 reposts, Rudi’s seems to be the most popular right now. Whether this is due to her position as the CEO of her new company or the appeal of her figure draped over lavish furniture, find out today at - “

AJ slammed the TV shut.

“I can’t believe this. The nonsense that the media is spewing these days. How about reporting the mass shootings in the country instead?”, shouted AJ. It had been only two days since the incident and the media was abuzz.

“It’ll die down in a week or two”, sighed Ray from the couch, “Anyways, it’s not like we can do anything.”

“But who could have done this”, responded Drew, “More importantly, how did they get hold of it in the first place? Only two people have ever seen my nudes and well, those two are right here. None of you would do it…”

“I’m ashamed you’d even think that, Drew.Let’s make up for it, date night tonight?.”

“We’ll go to the fancy place down the street,” Ray agreed, “I’ll pay.”

AJ and Drew nodded their heads in agreement.

“Well, I’m off to work now “ , she said kissing Ray and AJ goodbye, “You two should get going as well. We’ll meet at 9?”

“Yeah, perfect.”, they responded in unison.

Drew had started her own designer label - Illusions-  a few months ago. Followed by the big launch the label had caught the eyes of several haute couture stores and individual buyers. Her designs were inspired by cultures from all over the world.  

She had met AJ and Ray soon after college. The three were young and carefree - experimenting with life. A three-way relationship seemed good at the time. Down the years AJ and Ray discovered that they were not interested in each other and decided to “share” Drew.It was an open relationship with the men having other partners on the side. Drew had too much on her plate to think about the injustice of the deal. Moreover, she loved them and wanted them happy. They had fun when they were together and she did not allow her mind to think of the times when they were not. So far, it had worked perfectly.

AJ was a celebrated actor and Ray was an artist. They were both intelligent, handsome and supportive of her. When they shied away from meddling in the case of the leaked nudes, Drew was not just surprised - she was hurt. The three of them were like a family; they had always had each others backs. It wasn’t as if Drew was asking them to give up their lives for the search; she just needed their help in finding the culprit. Unless one of them had something to do with it.

---

“May I take your coat, Ma’am?”

Drew shrugged off her blazer and handed it to the man. Giving him a tight smile she walked to the table where Ray sat drinking.

“How was your day, love?”, Drew asked, wondering how to confront him.

“I have something to confess. I’ll just wait till AJ gets - ah, speak of the devil.”

Drew sighed and tried to curb her growing anticipation.

“Last week, I was down at the bar and it was late and I’d had one too many - it all sounds so stupid now. I was playing poker with the guys when this new dude walked in. Name was King or something. Said he’d bet his bank account that no one in the whole bar could beat him. Well, I couldn’t very well let that be, now could I - “

“Of course, you couldn’t”, sighed AJ, “And he wanted Drew’s pictures in case you lost?”

“He had the audacity to challenge me, the greatest player. The one who never loses. ”

“And you had the audacity to agree to his terms!”, cried Drew pushing her chair back, “Did you not think, for even a second, that if this King was willing to wager his bank account, he might have not been bluffing?”

“No, yes, I don’t know, Drew. I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking, I was confident that it wouldn’t happen. I could not say no to the challenge and - “

“Well of course you couldn’t say no to the challenge.But who gave you the permission to wager me, my self respect? You don't own me, I am not your bloody bankaccount.”

With that, Drew grabbed her blazer and walked out of the restaurant into the December chill. She could feel indignant tears pricking her eyes. It dawned on her that the fight for this injustice was hers alone. She had to find King and bring him down. While she felt bare without the support of her lovers, it strengthened her will to win this battle.

---

Two nights later, Drew was furiously typing away at her computer trying to  find “King”. She had looked all over the Internet, asked all of her sources and had even contacted Ray to find out whether the man had provided a first name. It was only when she was flipping through the invitees list of Illusion’s New Year’s Eve party did she finally come across the name again : Dave King, founder of Raves, a rival designing label. Some litigation suit had thrown the company off market for some time which was why Drew hadn’t formed the connection. Her eyes gleamed as a plan formed in her head. She dialled up her press contacts inviting them to the New Year’s bash with the promise of a never-before exposé.

The party at the Ritz Carlton was on a full swing. Drew scanned the room for Dave King and found him at the bar talking to a man in a gold suit. She straightened her dress and walked over with victory on her mind.

“Mr King, a word.”

“Drew Rudi”, King smirked looking Drew up and down,“Last I saw you, you were wearing less.” The man beside Mr King laughed nervously and excused himself.

“What gave you the right?”, Drew exclaimed in feigned anger provoking him to say more. “What did you even get out of it? How could you, a person with a mother, a sister, a wife even think of committing such a horrendous act?”

“Hold up, hold up, what am I being accused of?”

“You know what I’m accusing you of! For spreading my private pictures online.

“Your private pictures? Well if they were “private”, your boyfriend shouldn’t have shared them with me! Once he gave them to me, I could do whatever I wanted with it. That is, after all, my right.” smiled King maliciously.

“You tricked him into sharing those pictures - “

“Tricked him? I won those pictures fairly. He shouldn’t have challenged me and taken the risk”, King responded smugly, “And well, if all I hear is correct, you already have two boyfriends seeing you naked, what’s a few more people, eh? The more the merrier, right?”

The press, meanwhile, was feasting on this exchange rather than the delicious spread.  

“I’m going to destroy you, King,the same way you got me. I won’t rest till your company is ruined. Did you think leaking my nudes  would give you leverage on 2016’s market? Think again”, Drew spun around and pointed to a petite woman who stood self-consciously at the podium.

“I’m Jennifer, Dave King’s former secretary at Raves. Last year I filed a sexual harassment case against my boss but his power and wealth were worth more  than my pleas for justice. The company and this monster suffered minimal losses while I have lost all my credibility. So when Drew approached me and offered me the chance to tell my story in front of the press, I jumped at the opportunity. Nothing would make me happier than to see the monster pay for his crimes.”

Cameras flashed and journalists typed away on their pads ready with headlines for the new year. The blood drained from Dave King’s face as he found no suitable escape from the fate that awaited him. Drew thanked Jennifer for agreeing to be present on such short notice and encouraged her to press fresh charges  against King, assuring her of all support.

---

1st March, 2016

“Raves shuts down as King found guilty of sexual harassment charges on more than one account. His downfall began with him being revealed as the man behind Rudi’s’ leaked nudes and- “

Drew switched off the television and sipped her coffee with a smile. 

Medusa by Toshali

It feels great when your child shares your passion. I am lucky that my girl is keen on books and enjoys writing fiction.

This is one of her stories that I have shamelessly copied here.

"With the one, Medusa, dark-maned Poseidon lay in a soft meadow and amid the spring flowers”

---

“Ssh, keep quiet! It’s Don!”

A group of giggling girls scrambled past Mimi as she was on her way to class with her best friend Henna.

“Mimi, did you hear what Don did this time?”

“What? Got elected to run the state?”

“Haha, no, he got awarded the student of the year award. Pretty impressive for a new student, right?”

“Hmm yeah, I’ve seen him around but don’t know him very well.”

“Oooh, I would love to get to know him. He looks delightful. And his voice...oh my god would you look at the time! I’m late for class! See you at tonight’s New Years Party?”

With that, Henna took a left and disappeared from Mimi’s sight leaving the girl to her own thoughts.

LOUD -There was no other word to describe the rowdy scene in front of Mimi’s eyes. The music was overpowering and the leers from the guys in the crowd made her skin crawl. She tried searching for Henna but to no avail.

“Hey, you’re Mimi right?”

She jumped and turned around to see Don standing behind her with a beer in his left hand and his other outstretched towards her.

“The music is  deafening in here, want to ditch and drive around the city instead?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Sure. Don, yeah?”

“Yep, don’t worry. You’re in safe hands.”

Don chuckled and they walked out of the venue hand-in-hand and moved towards Don’s bike.

“Wow, fancy stuff.” , Mimi whistled.

“Well, being the minister’s son does have it’s advantages”, said Don winking, “ Now, where can I take you?”

“Wherever”, smiled Mimi.

They zipped down the Marine Drive with bright lights  flashing in their eyes and laughter playing on their lips. The city of dreams had gained another dimension of beauty, anything seemed possible. It was 11:45  - 15 minutes till the fireworks.

Don pulled up near an old, crumbling church and got off his bike.

“If we climb to the top there’s a room where we can watch the fireworks from. No one else knows about it - no one will see us.”, Don said while helping Mimi get off the bike. She nodded in reply and began to scale the staircases to the top of the church until they reached a dimly lit room at the top. The room itself was nothing fancy, a plain door, large stained glass windows and a small altar by the side of the room. The most spectacular feature however was the view. The city looked dazzling and the uproar of the roads became a distant hum. Don brought out two bottles of  beer and laid out a mat.

“Five  more minutes, jaaneman.”, Don whispered, “ What do you want right now?”

“To rule the world”, grinned Mimi, “And you?”

“You.”

With a single syllable Don closed the gap between the two of them and forced his lips on hers. His heavy breathing suffocated Mimi but there was no one she could call out for. That’s when the slow throng of a city counting down the minute to a new year began.

“59, 58, 57…”

Don’s hands were snaking behind her back to unbutton her top.

“45, 44, 43…”

Kicking and screaming, Mimi tried to escape but she was only gagged in response.

“32, 31, 30…”

The rip of fabric echoed through the room.

“24, 23, 22…”

Her cries for help turned to whispers to a god, any god, for mercy.

“12, 11, 10…”

Mimi could not see anything anymore, hot tears blurred her vision.

“3, 2, 1…”

Fireworks exploded in the distance as Mimi shrieked in agony. Her cries for help were muffled by Don’s sick grunts and the cheers of Mumbai. The last thing she remembered was hot, white pain and the monstrous look on Don’s face.

---

A door creaking open woke Mimi up the next morning. She sat up immediately and grabbed the closest thing to her - a delicate dupatta. Tears welled in her eyes as reality hit her. She, Mimi Das, the pride and joy of her family, had been raped.

“Hookers these days! “, a voice cried sharply, “Do you have no shame? Committing such atrocities in the house of god! Leave immediately!”

Mimi staggered to her feet clinging onto her dupatta. Mumbling something incoherent she tried to run away as fast as her frail body would permit. Not a single vehicle on the busy road outside stopped to offer help and so she walked back to the hostel, flinching with every step as the events of last night replayed in her head. She finally reached her hostel and was greeted by friends rushing towards her with questions in their eyes.

She could not do this right now, she wasn’t even ready to accept sympathy. Her protection was her dupatta and with that as armour she walked on.

“Mimi! We’ve been looking for you! Even Don said he had no clue as to where you could be!”

At the sound of that vile beast’s name, fresh tears filled her eyes and she pushed through her friends to run to her room. Switching the heater on, she stepped into the scalding water intent on scrubbing off the filth that seemed stuck to her body. Like thick, black tar it refused to be wiped off by any amount of cleansers. After two hours, she walked out of her room in a fresh set of clothes and a blanket wrapped tightly around her to be greeted by Henna.

“Oi, why didn’t you allow me in? I’ve been waiting forhours.” Henna teased, “Arrey, now don’t cry. Sit, sit. Do you want some tea? What’s up?”

“Henna he - he to- touched me. It was - he - midnight - at the church. Henna he - he ra- “

“Oh my god, Mimi, no! Don? He would never! Anyways, do you know how many girls would die to be in your place? What are you even crying about? Look, you just need some rest. Probably just a hangover, it’ll pass.”

---

Time and tide wait for no man and they certainly didn’t for the girl who refused to let go. She used the same dupatta to shroud her face, trying to protect an already infiltrated fort. She had tried to fight for herself, even file a case against Don but he had been right - being the minister’s son did have its advantages.

Mimi’s father refused to look at her and barred her from the house. Don’s popularity in the college  had blinded her friends as well. They refused to believe that such a genuine, charismatic person could have any hint of a venomous spirit. The lack of support from friends, family and society pushed Mimi to the brink and led to many a sleepless night and hallucinations. She woke up screaming, sensing snakes slithering over her body whispering obscenities into her ears.

Society is not kind  to a rape victim, and even less to a pregnant rape victim. So Mimi went to the only person who would have to listen to her - her mother.

“Maa, I have something to tell -”

“How dare you even come here? How dare you step into this house? Have you not shamed us enough?”

“Maa, please. Maa no one speaks to me anymore, even the nuns don’t allow me in to pray. I have to tell someone otherwise I might just die.”

“Die? Would that even be the worst of it? What do you have to say that could shock me anymore?”

“After that night...I am pregnant, Maa. With his child.”

“You are WHAT?”

“I don’t want it. I want no part of it growing in me. I tried distancing myself from him for three months only to find that I still have a part of him inside me.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go to the doctor for this. The Das family has already became the joke of the city. I refuse to be humiliated even more.”

“I can’t keep him, Maa. Not even for these 9 months. I cannot, I cannot - “

“Fine, then. I’ll do it myself. Although remember Mimi, this child might be the only thing that loves you.”

“Perhaps, but I could never love  it back. It’s every breath would be a painful reminder of him.”

Her mother called her up a few days later informing her that the supplies were ready. Mimi was nervous, but what was the worst that could come out of this? She walked into  a dark room and laid down on the bed.

“I hope this works out for you.”, her mother whispered while sterilizing a scalpel, “It might cut the strings holding you back.”

“Thank you,” Mimi smiled softly, “Maybe there still is hope.”

Mimi sat up to hug her mother but failed to see the scalpel. There was an audible gasp and the metallic smell of blood filled the room.

“Oh god, what have I done!”

“It’s ok Maa” , responded Mimi weakly, “Isn’t this what you wanted?” With those words she sagged in her mother’s arms and breathed her last.

It is said that when people die, their life flashes before their eyes. However, all Mimi saw was tragedy and punishment. Perhaps that’s what you deserve for being born a woman in today’s world.

By Toshali, grade 10

Diary 1 - leaving the kids home alone

I have taken vacations. My kids have always been a part of those trips. As babies they have slept peacefully enroute and gurgled happily to strangers in foreign lands. As toddlers they have walked away hand in hand with anyone who had candies on offer. As pre teens they have kept themselves occupied with diaries, sketch pads or cameras. In short they love to travel as well. So it came as a bit of a surprise to me when this time they wanted to stay back. The reasons could be many - we were going to Kolkata and not some exotic land that was part of their 'to visit' list, Most of the trip would involve ailing, elderly relatives and the one place that held promise of joy with cousins was already struck out as 'been there, done that'.

"Are you both sure?", I asked one last time.

"Yes ma," they said in unison.

And so it was that I left my 16 year old daughter and 13 year old son for a ten day visit to Kolkata and Shantiniketan. They were not completely unsupervised. My maid stayed the nights and our dogs - all the time. That was safety enough for me. My husband seemed to think I was in charge of this decision and left me to think it through in whatever limited capacity he feels I possess.

The day before the trip :

"Breakfast?"

"More like brunch, ma, we won't be getting up before whatever.."

"Okay brunch then.. any ideas of what you want me to cook?" I asked ticking breakfast off my list.

"Don't worry, we can make maggi, toast and eggs. Also we love milk and the corner store is open 24*7," said one while the other nodded consent.

"I will keep some frozen parathas just in case you feel like.." I said thanking almighty that Maggi was back in stores.

"Whatever.."

"What about dinner? Sangeetha will cook dog food and she will make the basics like rice, dal and some vegetable for you both. She will not know fancy stuff, so tell me and I can cook and freeze now,"

"It's just ten days ma, you make it sound like forever. We can survive on dal and rice. Food doesn't excite us,"

' I am sure' I thought feeling a little silly. 'Think of things that excite them and then forbid them from doing those' my instincts told me. 'Aaah so now I am being clever,'

"So what do you guys plan to do while home alone hmm?"

"Not like we can party, so just sleeping, watching movies on the laptops.."

"Hmm are you planning on calling friends over?"

"They are all travelling, well most of them are.."

"Well, rule number 1 is that you guys are not going to anyone's house and neither is anyone coming home. Okay?"

"Sure.."

"It is just 10 days and it will pass, once I am back I will take you around,"

"Okay," they said and I walked away wondering if I had missed something.

I did take them shopping for supplies and for someone who said food doesn't excite us, they managed to buy two cart loads of junk. On the drive back home I went through the drill once again.

"Check on all the doors and windows at night. Switch on the lights after sun set, don't read in the dark, please, I don't like to think of you both in a dark house, it's so gloomy the way you just stay on and on without switching on the lights.."

 "We do switch on the lights ma, it's just that our eyes can see better than yours.. " they giggled at their joke.

"Not funny.."

"Walk the dogs and always have clean water in their bowls,"

"Will do," they said ripping a bag of chips from the rear seat.

"All the emergency numbers are stored, right?"

"Yes," they said giggling at some private joke.

"I will be in touch, ofcourse, keep your phones handy," I said not expecting a response but did catch the eye roll on the rear view mirror.

Day of travel :

We were packed and waiting at the front door for our pick up. The dogs were stressed about the suitcases and pranced about the house trying to decide which one of us was travelling and which one was responsible for their food now. They finally reached the correct conclusion and settled at my daughter's feet, vehemently licking her.

My husband hugged the kids and so did I. Mine lingered till they let go. The car honked and we were on our way. The kids waving in their night dresses, the dogs panting with tongues out and the winter blooms cheerful.

Then like a flash a thought struck me. I had in my best ability ensured that the stay here was as  safe as possible for my kids but what if our plane crashed? what then would happen to these two, alone in a country far away from everyone. My throat dried up and I knew it was too silly a thought to even share with my husband. I allowed it to tide over me and eventually pass.

An over active imagination is not very wholesome when you have kids.

Holidays

Traveling to be with my cousins for 10 days. Will return with diaries of a wedding, a trip and time spent without my kids.

Happy holidays everyone. 

Moms and teenage boys

Being a mother is not for the faint hearted. The journey is back breaking but let me assure you there are views to melt your heart after you have climbed the hills and crossed the mud. Even in between the cross roads you might catch a butterfly taking flight, if you have the eye for it.

But that is me being poetic, the real version in my house now is slamming of doors, seized gadgets, negotiated homework times and bedtimes, endless pep talks that leave me pepped and the children frozen. When they are not fighting with me they are fighting with each other and then there are the days when dad steps in the game and turns on the heat.

Officially at 13 I have internally declared my son to be a young man. He is hovering over manhood. On certain days he takes massive steps towards independence - both likeable and "flinchable" (I coined that word right now). He comes forward to carry the grocery for me or open doors and pull out the chair which I like, and with equal elan, on other days, he slams the door of his room on my face and stays in bed for hours at end breaking the family rules all at once - flinchable. It is a struggle for sanity and equilibrium. Puberty is a process and does not happen overnight. When I see him as the young man that he is physically, I have to remind myself to also see the child that is not completely gone yet. The two are so blended together, each taking an erratic dominant front that it leaves me confounded.

My husband doesn't understand naps, and associates them with laziness or the elderly.  If my son is in a moving car without distractions, he easily passes out asleep. On weekends, he sleeps till we are tired of him sleeping. I know that I should be worrying about this if he was 29 and living in my basement unemployed and sleeping all day but at 13, his body is telling him it needs more rest. On most days I don't remember this and I assume that the sleep is a reflection of his lack of ambition and end up feeling like the mom of the unemployed 29 year old.

He is a growing boy for sure. The fridge empties in the wink of an eye. He has his "I love.." foods but he is willing to grab anything that his hand can reach and then work his way down the shelves till even the salad dressing is empty. He can cause severe embarrassment in front of guests when I offer them goodies only to find empty packets and jars in the pantry. 

I've always been very open in our home and use the real words for sexual acts and body parts. It seems a long way from this incident and as a mother of a teenage boy I know that at some point, we come to a fork in the road. I can talk about emotions, feelings and respecting your partner. I can also hit on the staying safe parts. The how-to-actually-do-this-stuff questions go to his Dad. Really? They obviously go to his friends or youtube.

My son was one of those kindergartners who had to be carried to school. He thrived on hugs and kisses. Now he walks three steps ahead of us in public.He still freely comes up to me and gives me the odd hug. The difference of course is that he does it when no one is looking. Dads sometimes don't read the signs so well. Unlike other cool dads, his dad can't stay in the stands and watch his game. He is on the field shouting his head off - a source of incessant embarrassment.Parents, as a rule, should assume invisibility when their own teens are around.

He guards his space as furiously as his 16 year old sister. He might not demand it the way she does with a PMS sulk, and being careless and forgetful he might not remember to hide away his personal things beyond the eyes of his helicopter mom, but incidents of him busting me are more than I would like to admit. Previously it was fine to be arranging his things, looking through his books and bed. Now the same action rubs him the wrong way and hell breaks loose.

This is just the start, I am told. It is a long way ahead. The journey of hills and flowers, rains and butterflies is tedious and exhausting. I wish I had the map of Dora and could be as adventurous an explorer as her. 

Raja Rani ki bakwaas kahani (An apology of a love story)

“Sorry, she is around. We are discussing some issues plus she wants me to sleep early and workout tomorrow. Can’t chat. Later.”

She felt it like a blow in her gut. Drained of all her energy that usually built up over the course of the day to finally find a release during this time when she had him to herself. The door slammed on all of that.

“Goodnight, sleep well” she messaged and creeped out of her toilet with the phone tucked in her bra. 

Stealthily she crawled on to her side of the bed and lay down no different from the creepy crawlies of the night she so hated. Her husband of 20 years slept peacefully, or so she assumed.

The misadventure had started on her last trip home. It had been a devastating trip on every account. She had rushed to India at the news of her brother’s death and in the month that she stayed there she met the man who had left her at the altar 21 years ago. She told herself that she was vulnerable and it was natural to find solace in a man who had courted her relentlessly for years and so she agreed to one lunch and then another and then a few more.

He said he realised, now, what a mistake he had made when he succumbed to family pressure and married a rich girl instead of her, and she believed. She felt good that he realised, that he found her attractive still to say this.

They chatted every opportunity they got, reliving the past and making the present selfishly messy. The future – did not occur to them. Love they called it. ‘Reconnected’, ‘meant to be together’ were the phrases used. It suited them well; it justified the mindlessness of it all. And then she went back to the country and to the man who had taken care of her broken dreams and helped her carve out a life for herself these past 20 years.

She came home like an empty shell. Her eye was always on the phone, every beep raising her heartbeat, every request for a picture making her change umpteen dresses and shades of lipstick. The selfies with the unnatural pouts filled the gallery of her phone and she slept less and less each night. The phone that never had a password now had one. It was a ticking bomb ready to explode on all that she called her own, three kids and a devoted husband.

Her day revolved around his messages. She waited like a dog waits for a bone thrown his way. Initially he was eager, he stayed awake till the wee hours to chat with her, but now all she got was a maximum of 5 to 10 minutes a day. Curbing her self-respect she asked him why. “Busy,” he said and she believed yet again. Her life though she had blissfully changed to fit him in. She was never busy for him.

When pouts didn’t work, she played mind games. She controlled her urge to message him and suffered withdrawal symptoms like an addict. If he still did not get in touch, she sent a causal joke hoping to sound breezy and yet get noticed. She changed her profile picture and put up a loaded status message. When he did take the bait she felt like she could eat again, breathe again.

“Rajja I still love you…”

“Say it again, just one more time...”

“I checked the tyre pressure in your car and got the tank full. Going now, your breakfast is on the kitchen table. See you in the evening,” the husband said from outside the toilet door.

“See you,” she said in a matter of fact voice her fingers flying over her phone’s keypad. It was the time she had him just to herself. She was lapping up the treat that had been thrown her way.