Ah, Whose could it be ??

It's a WOW !!  

With a throbbing headache I wake up

I need nothing but a strong coffee cup

Housewarming party images from last night

But, oh, the messy surroundings was not a very pretty sight

Gone are the friends and their friends

‘t was fun, food, music and booze flowing without ends

Cleaning up the corners of my new place

Need to buck up, I just can’t sit and laze

As I hurry to order up things

A half-eaten cake, mobile phone and an earring

Resting on my newly acquired centre-table I see

Now whose earring could it be?

Tried hard to recall, but how could I tell

After all, the expensive booze had done its work well

Ah, I am never gonna find out was my apprehension

But somehow that earring had my attention

I picked up my phone and browsed casually

To take a picture and instagram it quickly

Half face of a lady in green earring sat in my phone gallery

So, the special connection with the earring could not just be a fallacy

But how do I find out whose it could be

Voila, why not check if a new number in my phone I could see

Yes, her number I saw with the picture

Hope of new beginnings inside me now flickered

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

What is wrong with me?

Dear Diary,

Seriously, I am not able to understand what’s wrong with me. Everybody tells me that I am not normal like other boys of the class because I like to dance like girls. I read somewhere that dance is a form of expression and it cannot be restricted to gender. Isn’t it strange that girls are praised when they dance like boys, but I am rebuked when I dance like girls?   

I wish I had atleast one friend who didn’t see whether I danced like a boy or a girl but rather understood what dance meant to me. 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. The prompt – ‘Your post must contain the word Friend and you have just 5 sentences to complete your story.’

Bitching, Literally !!

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Zoey:  Long time, where have you been?

Coco: Ah, don’t ask. It’s been such a long week. The family took me on a holiday with them.

Zoey:  Enjoyed?

Coco: Atleast it was better than making that aunt of theirs babysit me. She doesn’t know a thing, you see. All she keeps on doing is feeding me. I mean for God’s sake, we do not have unlimited spaces in our tummies. Then, she would scrunch her nose when I have an upset stomach. I mean whose fault is that? By the way, how was everything here?

Zoey: Haha, that woman. Oh, Coco, you have missed so much here in the last week.

Coco: Is it? What happened? I am all ears.

Zoey: You remember that hunky dory called Brat we have been eyeing since the family came to stay here last month? I saw him getting all worked up on seeing your next door neighbor. And then, I see both of them together in this park last week. Oh, you won’t believe how they were up to being so cozy away from the glares of their families.  

Coco: Oh my god, is it? Sassy, doesn’t leave anybody, doesn’t she? I mean, just a few days before she was with Bruno from the next lane, isn’t it?

Zoey: Oh yes, you told me about it. By the way, did you see Fluffy recently? The amount of weight he has been putting on is just so oh-my-god!! No wonder, that slim and slender Angie left him.

Coco: What else would she have done? Ah, yes, Angie was flaunting her new diamond studded band.

Zoey: One flaunting bitch, she is. Anyways, leave it. Why should we care about others?

Zoey: Yes, you are right. Let’s just enjoy this warm sunlight.

  

Image Source: Google

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. The prompt was to write a short story/incident (200-300 words) from an animal’s perspective.

I wish more I could do

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My baby was my sunshine

Like every parent I ensured all the time she was fine

Her every little need

I fulfilled, I guaranteed  

She loved playing with me in the park

Every evening, with her I embarked

Dressing her in cute little pink frock

I made her wear warm blue socks

Just as she was running around with small happy feet

I took on the park bench my regular seat

I watched my doll play under the tree

That’s when I caught her looking at me                                     

Dressed in tattered rags

Her small shoulders seemed bogged down with snags

Cheeks smeared with tears

Her eyes brimming with fears

Something inside me moved

I wished her pains I could soothe

I asked her what was she doing in here

She held out her hand and rolled down a tear

In her tiny voice she spoke

She had to beg coz her parents were broke

Same old story I thought

God knows many innocent childhoods, this poverty would have cost  

I handed her some food packets

Even my child’s small little jacket

I wish, for her, more I could do

But I knew poverty in this country would never bid adieu

Feeling small with my meek gesture

Holding my baby, towards home I venture

One last look near the gate when I reach

She was still looking at me

Tears pushing the corner of my eyes

Hugging my child, hard I cry

I wish, for thousands like her, something more I could do

I just wish poverty in my country soon bids adieu !!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Ignorance of expectations – Indeed a bliss !!






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Faizal was in awe of Neha, his best friend and colleague Animesh’s girlfriend. Animesh was giving a treat to Faizal for his engagement to Neha at KFC near their office. They seemed so much in love. And Neha, she was such a beauty. She carried herself so well, knew how to dress for the occasions, took part in conversations related to cricket and politics, truly a beauty with brains thought Faizal. Neha and Animesh were to get married next month just like him.

The mere thought of getting married saddened Faizal. After all, his was not a love marriage. He was getting married to Shabana who chosen by his parents back home in Lucknow. He had met her once and that too for a brief period during which he had just known that she had studied till 12^th standard and cooked mutton biryani very well. How he wished that Shabana was a little more modern and behaved more like Mumbai girls. But, do all wishes come true?

*****

Eight months in the marriage and yet Faizal was never fully satisfied with Shabana and kept on bickering about something or the other. Shabana, on the other hand was as dutiful as possible. Faizal kept on insisting her to dress like Mumbai girls, behave a little like them but Shabana found this very odd. She couldn’t understand as to why her husband did not want her the way she was. After all, she was performing all the duties a wife should be doing. She kept his house clean, fed him warm food and run the household as efficiently as possible. But Faizal? He had a completely different image of a life partner. Nevertheless, he had accepted Shabana as his fate. But in heart of hearts, he wished Neha could make his wife become a little like her. He longed to make Neha and Shabana meet each other but always decided against it thinking about the inabilities of his wife to present herself before others and hence hardly took her to meet any of his colleagues or friends.

*****

It was yet another mundane Monday morning at office. Faizal was immersed in his work when Animesh came and sat by him. He was not his usual chirpy self. Faizal got worried.

Faizal – ‘What’s the matter Animesh? You seem to be worried since a long time. Is everything ok ??'

Animesh – ‘Faizal, you know it’s been just eight months since I have been married. But I really don’t know man, what does Neha want? I have been trying to be such a good husband all the time. I go home and help her out. Even on weekends, we do the household work together. I try and put in as much effort to keep the marriage going but she is never satisfied. I am really confused man, her expectations are beyond my comprehension. What do these modern women want out of their men? I just can’t figure out her expectations.’

*****

Faizal reached home that day in a confused state of mind. He didn’t know what to make out of Animesh’s problem. Neha, the beautiful and vivacious Neha was giving his friend a hard time. As soon as he rang the bell, Shabana smilingly opened the door. Took his laptop bag and offered him a glass of water. She went inside to fetch something to eat for him. He knew she would have cooked something fresh just before he arrived.

He thought that howsoever orthodox his wife was in her ways, at least he never had to crib about his married life to others. Shabana never gave him a hard time. He always had peace at home. For the first time after his marriage, he felt he had a good married life. Thank god, he didn’t take Shabana to meet Neha or else he too would be encountering similar problems of expectations of modern women from their men. Ignorance indeed is a bliss, he thought to himself.   

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out a creative writing theme each weekend for Indian bloggers. This week's prompt : To weave a post including, ‘Ignorance indeed is bliss, he/she thought to himself/herself.’

 

Relationship Advice Gone Wrong

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“5..4..3..2..1... And the winner for ‘Stupidity Contest’ is Ragjivanram.” - blurted out the radio jockeys Neha and Shahid in unison. It was April Fool’s day and they were having a blast with the city of Bangalore. A contest was hosted by ‘Radio Masti’ on their morning show ‘Subah Suhaani’ hosted by Neha and Shahid. Both of them were at the evening show to announce the contest winners. In the contest, the listeners had to give a whacky question and the hosts gave them even wackier answers.

Ragjivanram hadn’t heard the announcement of him being the winner on Radio. He didn’t even know he was a part of April Fool’s Day contest. He had been probed my Shankar, his fellow peon at the campus of Piramal Institute of Medicine to ask his problem on radio. Shankar had seen young boys and girls do that in campus and when Ragjivanram told him about his anxiety over drinks last evening, Shankar told him he could find the solution of his problem on radio. He told him that the students on the campus did that quite often and they used to discuss the advice they got from radio. Ragjivanram was convinced. After all, he wasn’t too sober to think things through.

Shankar gave him the number of the radio station where he could ask his question. The next morning, Ragjivanram called up the radio station. After a few attempts, he was on line.

‘Hallo, I Ragjivanram’

‘Hello Ragjivanram, welcome to Radio Masti. Where are you from?’

‘I am from Bangalore’

‘Hahaa.. We know you are from Bangalore. But where are you speaking from Bangalore’

‘I from Piramal Institute of Medicine’

‘Ok. Cool Cool.. What’s your question?’

‘I problem with my wife. She go to clean quarter and cook for one Professor house on campus. I no like the Professor. He keep seeing my wife. I don’t like he looks at my wife. I told no to wife to go there. She no listen. She says she need money. Professor very dirty. My wife simple. She no understand his bad looks. I tell her. She no understand. I teach Professor lesson. What to do?’

‘Whoaa, Whoaa, Whooaa.. We have some jealousy issues here. By the way, Ragji-van-ram, right? Ok Ragjivanramji, firstly I really like the way you speak in your broken English. Hahaha.. Anyways, now coming to your problem, I think you need to teach that Professor some lessons. Why don’t you go to that Professor’s house instead of your wife today and given him some hard lessons. Like mixing something in his food. Kuch mila do unke khaane mein. Teach him the lesson Mr. Ram. Unko sabak sikhao. Show him that you love your wife. Aap apne wife ko love karte hain ye bataiye uss professor ko. I hope Mr. Ram I would have solved your problem. Hahaha.. goodbye..’

And the line went off.

Ragjivanram couldn’t understand most of the talk. All he could understand was ‘kuch mila do unke khane mein’. He was even more confused now. Last evening’s hangover was persistent.

*******

'I really really liked the way he was jealous for his wife. And his english was amazing, What do you think Shahid?'. 

'I cant agree more Neha. And your advice. haha.. was crazy.. Hope the professor would have learnt some lessons coming in and out of the toilet.. hahaha... Lets call him up and let him know he is the winner.'

It was 8.30 pm. The phone in the administrative building rang and was picked up by Ramesh who was the clerk there.

‘Hello, we are calling up from Radio Masti. Can we talk to Mr. Ragjivanram. He is the contest winner of the April Fool’s Day contest we held this morning. Can you please put me to him.’

‘What contest? Ragjivanram not here. We have had a crime in the Institute. Somebody has poisoned Professor Dayal today. Police says somebody mixed poison in his food. Please call later. I will tell Ragjivanram. Bye’

At Radio Masti, Neha’s face had lost its colour.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

The Game Has Changed..

And before I knew it, I had hit ‘Send’.

My feelings changed from fear to joy to ecstasy to relief, right in that order. Fear

because I was peeking into the laptop of 39 year old Ram Maheshwari – the next candidate pegged for the position of Prime Minister when he was in a shower, Joy because I had finally found the data about his Swiss bank account details where all his black money was deposited, Ecstasy because my hard work or call it risking my life finally paid off and Relief because I was still alive and would be free from this operation just as I leave this house.

I quickly switched off the laptop and went to the table for preparing his black coffee which he always had after the shower. While preparing his coffee, flashes of last three and half years swam through my eyes.

Right from winning the Secretary General elections of the University where this journey all began till today when I had become the most trusted aide of Ram Maheshwari. Could anybody have thought that this journey was not a mere coincidence but a well laid plan. A plan which began when Narayan Kumar approached me after I had defeated his only son, the coveted Riddhish Kumar in the Secretary General elections of the University. The results of the Secretary General elections were the biggest upset for the Kumar’s party since he was vying for beginning the political journey of his son.

I don’t know what Narayan Kumar saw in me when he came to meet me after the elections where he offered me to join hands with him, though not openly. And in return, I was to be the Chief Ministerial candidate for his party. And thus began a journey. A journey of deceit, a journey of unfaithfulness and faithfulness and a journey where risk and rewards knew no bounds.

Narayan Kumar, the mastermind behind this plan and the biggest political rival of Ram Maheshwari was my political mentor who guided me step by step for reaching closest to Ram Maheshwari so that I could unravel all his political plans and provide them to Narayan Kumar.

My open challenges and my dislike about Narayan Kumar’s party during college years, getting noticed in the eyes of Ram Maheswari’s People’s party, the proposal of People’s party to join hands with them, my hard work in party’s office, the big furor I created in Party office when I came to know about embezzlement of funds by some Party workers just to get noticed in the eyes of Ram Maheshwari, my threat to walk out of the Party and inform media about the embezzlement if I am not allowed to meet Ram, my meeting with him, my maneuvering of the meeting in a way so that he asks me to work directly with him, the so called planned love affair between us and the umpteen amount of twists and turns after that, were nothing but planned. A well thought and a well-executed plan. A plan whose result was going to change the political history of this country.

When I hand over the information I just mailed to myself to Narayan Kumar, the path would be laid for him becoming the next Prime Minister, I becoming the next Chief Minister and Ram Maheshwari becoming the biggest political debacle of this country.

As a devilish grin spread across my face, I saw Ram come out of shower. I handed him his black coffee and went into the shower myself. When I came out, my green tea was laid. I finish my tea and we both get ready hurriedly. Ram would be leaving for his tour and I would go and meet Narayan Kumar.

Slowly, I see sweat beads appearing on my forehead and feel my limbs getting loose. My head gets dizzier and I sit down on the chair holding my head. Ram is standing next to me. I feel nauseated. I see his eyes writhing with anger. I ask him to call the doctor. He doesn’t respond. My eyes droop.  

I faintly hear him say, “Niharika Singh, what the hell do you think of yourself? You would walk out alive from here after stealing my data? Do you think I was a fool enough to use the laptop without any security features?

I try hard to open my eyes. I can’t. I realize the game has changed. Breathing heavily, I ask: ‘How?’

‘Just as you sent a mail from this laptop, I received a message saying that this laptop has been used. And after that it was just a cakewalk to find out what a bitch have you been!!!’ he speaks gritting his teeth.

I feel a hard punch on my stomach and everything blanks out. 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

When you say nothing at all…

I might not be the best daughter

I don’t listen to you all the time,

I get angry, I get cranky;

Punish me as much as you want,

But don’t be quiet

Coz 'apart' my world falls;

When you say nothing at all..

I am the not best sister;

I don’t get your perspectives every time,

Your wishes, I don’t always grant;    

Fight with me as much as you want,

But don’t be quiet

Coz 'apart' my world falls;

When you say nothing at all..

I can’t be called the best friend you’ve ever had;

I don’t call you often and I know it makes you mad,

Shriek at me as much as you want,

But don’t be quiet

Coz 'apart' my world falls;

When you say nothing at all..

I am not the best girlfriend one can have,

When you praise other women, jealousy pangs I have

Don’t buy me gifts my next birthday and yell at me as much as you want,

But don’t be quiet

Coz 'apart' my world falls;

When you say nothing at all..

I have not been my best as a wife,

You come home to a messy house at times,

While my shopping bills give you sleepless nights,

Scream at me as much as you want,

But don’t be quiet

Coz 'apart' my world falls;

When you say nothing at all..

I try hard but I am not the best mother,

I don’t always give you enough time and that makes me bother,

I push you to try harder coz this world I want you to conquer,

Fight with me in your childish ways,

But don’t be quiet

Coz 'apart' my world falls;

When you say nothing at all..

My People, My World,

Whenever I give you nightmares,

Scream, shout and fight out aloud,

But don’t be quiet

Coz 'apart' my world falls;

When you say nothing at all..

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda