Yogesh is diligently typing on his desktop computer. He has to submit a proposal by 2 P.M. to his boss Dr. C. Singh. It is a proposal for the communication campaign on sterilisation. It’s already ten past one, and he isn’t even half way done. He has decided to skip his lunch, his favourite part of the day, when he savours and empties out the contents of his lunch box that have been lovingly packed by his wife, Sunita. Today…
Mrs. Pammi Chopra is our buxom, next door neighbour, with an extremely foul mouth. She, along with her meek husband, Mr. Chopra who has a tiny frame that surprisingly dons a handle bar moustache, their two over boisterous kids; live in the apartment across ours. Mrs. Chopra’s favourite hobby it seems, is to pick up arguments and fights. It’s been just six weeks they moved in and she has already fired four maids, broken out into expletives with the newspaper guy,…
We drove down these boulevard of beautiful trees, last month. These trees have been my travel companions ever since I was a child, as I have crossed them multiple times
It’s a bitterly cold winter morning in New Castle Upon Tyne, UK. The roads are snowed out by 10 inches. Elvis needs to get to work. His job as a newspaper boy entails waking up at 4 AM, picking up the newspapers from the dealer and dropping them at each doorstep before 6 AM, in the Heaton neighbourhood.
I sit pretty, on delicate bone china cutlery, surrounded by my companions that include delectable savouries like shepherd’s pie, mushroom quiches, chicken pie, corned beef pie, pot pie, Cornish pasty. Then there are my brethren: sweet, mouth-watering wonders like pear pie, banoffee pie, lemon meringue pie, pumpkin pie, rhubarb pie, blueberry pie and the likes. I am the quintessential apple pie. We all have made a grand comeback at the Claremont Pie Festival.
Sanjana sits demurely, a royal blue, Banarsi silk saree draped around her head, in a ghunghat (veil). Last evening she took the saath phere (seven rounds around the sacred fire) with Suraj amidst the chants of Vedic mantras, to culminate their 5-year-old relationship into marriage. Both sides of the family, from the rural interiors of Uttar Pradesh had congregated to witness the ceremony. The Band Baja Barat, clad in their usual garish red, had sung and played, blaring the loudspeakers through the night with Mera Piya Ghar Aaya O Ramji (Happy…
When the country roads took me home, Ms. Amaltas came calling into my heart.
“Trees are the poems that the earth writes upon the sky.” – Khalil Gibran
Creeps in stealthily Like a thief Though fleeting, Robbing me of my goodness Depriving me of my much deserved happiness.
I haven’t written since last Thursday. For some reason weekends snow ball into a busy time, and though I did try sitting down to write last evening, I drew simple blanks. So this morning after much thought and deliberation which also included exploring writing prompts, I chose to write yet again on happiness. I recently wrote one guest post on Isheita’s blog, as part of her birthday week celebration. You can read it here – Do I Deserve to Be Happy?