its a normal evening

1. - its a normal evening…he’s just gotten back from work. she opens the door like everyday, they exchange a look for a second…no stories told. soon, they’re at the dinner table, she puts the dal for herself in two katories, suddenly realizing what she’d done. quickly makes up with pouring it back and putting some dahi instead. things seem fine now. except, that at the end of the dinner after wrapping up she clears the last thing for the day…three tea cups, freshly used in the evening and a wrapper carelessly or rather carefully left by somebody in the tray, stares back. she cant move her gaze, its locked. with trembling hands, she gathers the courage to put it in the bin. things seem fine yet again.
   - her gynae always tells her – you have a trust problem…someone just made it worse? forever? the battles were manifold at all levels and now…one with yourself? you know you will never win it, coz this win only mean a loss. ‘loss’ the word hits today…especially when one hasn’t learnt how to break relationships. its like having to face the reality of ‘death’. to face the fact that this person isn’t just a phonecall away…you will love them as much but they aren’t anymore. except that one doesn’t know who’d dead in the bargain…
   - she made a call to her mother-in-law in as mundane a manner as possible. luckily, she didn’t have to do the talking today, she was hearing everything, the usual story with a deadpan expression…just an unstoppable array of images flashing across her head…words ringing in her ear, a mess of things creating unbearable noises inside…of something that could have completed a year…had it survived this…
   - time to pinch oneself…hoping it’s a bad dream. just one of them, yet again. it cant be true. can someone not prove that this is a lie? could it have had a better end…rather than a ruthless riotous breach of trust?? butchering of that emotion…bloodshed! but this time, no one is seeing red…it’s a slow death. it cannot manifest itself in the form of tears or anything for that matter. it’s a normal evening
   - he was her god. nothing more need be said…she knew he was cast in stone. like an idol that she could spend hours with and get nothing out of and yet feel loved, probably she was imagining it. she imagined that it made a difference to her life, she imagined a hand of god around her, trusting it with as much blind faith as it takes. a good deed done would just make her smile inside and think of him…selfishly enough in heart she’d say – if it ever has to pay off, let it pay off in the form of HIM. she has been robbed today…of all that she ever earned or thought that she owned. realization – it never belonged to her, so why complain?
   - nine is his lucky number…and luckily enough, after 53, she rests at 54. epitaph reads as – poor thing, she really loved me, like noone could! a kick for a lifetime...in either sense.
   - he moved on many steps, while she would take the same way…may he always be very happy, may all his wishes, dreams, ambitions come true. may he be the biggest achiever of his times. may he never go through a low phase, may god take care of his foot, his teeth, his soul. may he always get love. that’s all that she prayed for…now…no hard feelings. may god take care of her god. may
   
   - its all over today. worst has happened. life will never be the same again. she will never be the same again. a soul lies murdered and everyone’s going about with their chores, including her. one sai baba idol, one conversation, one shock has changed her life forever. she will never come alive again. the passion is lost for good. she will never trust anyone ever ever again. ‘love’ is just a worthless, cheap word today…she will never hate him. she will hate herself for still always loving him. In this bargain…she has decided to punish herself, for good. nobody will ever get close, ever again. she’s never needed anyone to remain sane…she never will. volunteers unwelcome. the wall just got higher. it’s a normal evening.

bisleri

Pure from the heart of himalayas, precious and vital to human existence. it has undergone so many quality checks. if only...we treated love with as much sanctity, if only we realised that its an entity thats as pure and vital and is fast depleting. i strongly feel that it needs to be preserved, protected from getting contaminated or from going waste...coz i dont see a day when we'd be able to bottle it and sell it off the shelf!