American Dream - Love, life and seeking happiness - Chapter 3

(Read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 here)

Jane finished her cooking and stepped into shower. Last two hours were much better than the rest of the day. She was calmer, more composed and prepared for worst.

As she showered and clothed, she realized she was hungry. The turmoil in her mind had not let her eat the entire day, and the aroma of freshly baked bread reminded her of her childhood in England.

Her mother, a homemaker and the best cook Jane knew, insisted all three of her daughters to learn to cook. Her dishes were the best and special and she was talk of the small town. When Jane’s father passed away when she was eight, her mother decided to open her own bakery to provide for her daughters. Jane youngest of three, spent her evenings in her mother’s kitchen with her notebooks.

American Dream - Love, life and seeking happiness - Chapter 2

Shagird very well knew what it took to give up everything in order to pursue one's dream.

Born in a middle class Indian family in crowded lanes of Hyderabad, Shagird parents never dared to teach him to dream big. However, they had a dream of their own. They wanted Shagird to be an IAS officer, being a government officer was key to a good life as per his parents.

It was in his fifth grade that Shagird learnt about two things for the first time. He learnt the value of doctors to the society and he learnt about what America had to offer to his citizens.

Being the only son, it was Shagird's responsibility to fulfill his parents dream and of course live with them and help them in their old age. Therefore, when he first discussed his plans to study medical science to his parents, they discouraged him.

They argued that he was bright enough to be an IAS officer. And America?? That was out of discussion.

On a rainy day...what he never said(55 fiction)

On a rainy day I sat at his window, looking at the street while he played his favourite tune on guitar.
Suddenly I heard him say, "Do you love me?" I replied "Yes, I do."
He continued humming, and I kept nodding.
Probably he never said, probably I never replied.
And I continued loving him.

American Dream - Love, life and seeking happiness - Chapter 1

Does he love me? Does he really love me? Jane kept thinking about it all night. When the dawn broke, she was still in her dress and her shoes, sitting at the edge of her bed. Her phone’s ring broke her thoughts. It was her neighbor and friend Claire calling her for the jog.

In order to push the thoughts away, Jane quickly changed and got out of her house. Less that she had forgotten that she was going to see him on the tracks too.

My first job!

When I walked into his office for the first time, there he was. Somewhat like this, in this picture. He held his phone between is ears and shoulder and his face buried in his hands. 

I took my seat opposite him and waited. The conversation lasted another five minutes (or maybe less, time always stretches itself when you have nothing to do). All the time I had an urge to take out my phone and check messages. I had a movie to catch up after my interview.

He hung the phone, got up and filled his coffee mug and lit a cigarette like I wasn’t in the room. I shifted position to make myself noticeable. After two what I call really long puffs, he stubbed his cigarette and returned.

“Ah! You are…” He said, while searching for my resume.

“Neeti” I helped.

“And you are here to work with me.” His eyes scanned my resume.

I was nervous. “Yes”

“Alright, when can you start working?” before I could respond, he continued, “Can you work long hours and forget your personal life? That’s the only way you can work with me.”

“No problem sir. Anytime, I am okay to start as soon as you say.” I stammered. There was going to be hell of problems at home. But I needed this job.

“Fine, you are hired. We start now.” I looked at him for some clue, he noticed. “Is there a problem?” “No sir.”

“Good, you shouldn’t have, my last personal assistant left today.” The phone rang again. “Oh take the call and take the notes.” He said and left.

There I was, sitting in a chamber, working as a personal assistant for India’s biggest entrepreneur.

I have something tell you....She was fired!

I have something to tell you…! She leaned over my desk and said excitedly. Her shrill voice and over excited tone made me spill my coffee and caught attention of rest of the bay.

I gave her one of my “can you please calm down?” looks and she sobered. She usually forgets that I am not only her boyfriend but also her boss now.

“I’ll meet you in ten minutes in cafeteria, tell me then” I said in a hushed tone.

“No Raj! I can’t wait, please listen to me” She pleaded in the sweet little girl tone that had made me go crazy for her ever since I first saw her.

“Fine, let’s go.” That’s the advantage about being her boss, no one suspects why I am sitting with her (as long as I can curb my desire to kiss her).

I got up with my diary and my pen and headed for meeting room. She, like an excited child followed close. Once there, I asked, “What?” “Can you talk politely? You are not talking to your junior; you are talking to your girlfriend. Plus, the news that I am about to break will need a good setting” She said with excitement still not fading.

“Are you getting married?” I asked skeptically. She gave a mad look and said “Don’t kill the mood, anyway I can’t wait, I am pregnant!” “What???” It was my turn to scream. But thankfully we were in the sound proof meeting room.

In next one minute, I went through a series of emotion that a man goes through.

7X7X7X7 prompt challenge - the last thought

In Kolkata before she was married she was working toward a college degree.  However, now it seemed like the bygone years. How many days had it been that she was married? Fifteen, is that it? The henna on her palm had still not faded, but the bruises on her body explained a different tale. “I wish my parents understood why that degree was important” She left the note on the table and jumped.

7^th Book on the shelf – Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri

Woman to Women - If you ring the bell, your men will!!

It was eleven in the night, I called up 100. Ever since I arrived in Delhi, I have read about Delhi Police and how 100 would help.

There were two drunken men at my door. I lived alone in an apartment in Rajinder Nagar and was somewhat confident in my own ways. I moved in and out of that apartment every day for last six months and these men noticed.

They ran a car repair shop close by. I often crossed their place to get to the main road. This particular evening when my auto guy decided to drop me at main road, I walked past their shop to reach home. As I reached around the corner, I noticed these men following. I fumbled for keys as I walked and opened and slid inside as quickly as possible. I was just in time to lock the door but that didn’t budge these men.

After I dialed 100 and gave my details, I waited. Nothing happened for next 10 minutes. My door bell was constantly ringing and door was constantly banged. I called up my neighbor. No answer. I called up second, same.

I peeped from window, I saw a kid bring his mom to a window and show her the two men. I screamed “Bhabhi please bhaiya ko bolo inko yahan se hatayenge” and she walked away.

I kept waiting and praying that nothing happens. I saw one of the going. I called up a friend and asked him to come over. I was slightly positive as one had left.

My hope was short lived. He returned with tools. Still no sign of police, I was panicking. I called up the number again.

The men worked on the door. I locked myself in the room, and prayed and called anyone and everyone I could think of. A friend’s friend answered. He was close by; he came in 10 minutes later with a few friends.

Thanks to their drunken state that the men couldn’t get the door. Those were the scariest 10 minutes of my life. Police arrived almost at the same time. I changed my house one month after the incident.

My question – Why didn’t my neighbors agree to help? All they had to do was open their doors and question those men. Why didn’t a woman felt other woman’s misery? All she had to do was to ask her husband and her father in law.

Their answer, “We are sorry, we couldn’t do much. We weren’t sure that it was serious. Kuch hua nahi na, thank God…” Behind my back, they said, “She must be doing something wrong to get their attention (they couldn’t say clothes as I was salwar”

We blame the police. I know police is slow. I should be blaming them too. But panic, mixed with difference in understanding makes it difficult for the department to be everywhere.

As a woman, I request women, to please not be prejudiced about someone’s situation. Please come forward for help. It doesn’t take much you know. Men will ring the bell, if you let them. Don’t stop your men from going forward to help a woman in need.

It’s not a man issue, it’s not a woman issue. It’s our issue. Let’s stand together. Lets ring the bell.

The same man! (A short story for Write up cafe competition)

I came out of the diner and sat in the car. It was getting late and kids were home. I told Jyotesh to forget the cupcakes, but he insists upon carrying sweets home for kids whenever we go out on our own. Where is he now?

Unknowingly, I looked back at the place I just had my dinner at. A girl, obviously waiting for someone, wiped the moist off the window in order to get a better view of the road and our new hot red color car. I could see her getting awed; I could also see the men behind her, on the booth turning to see the color.

Oh wait a minute! Who was he? Wasn't he Anant? What was he doing here? Wasn't he in India? Who is the man with him? How come Anant, a guy who rejected his dream job and me, could be here when he hated America so much?