It happened on a rainy evening!

With my mind in turmoil, I rush out of the house. The weather outside is also the same- full of thunderbolts and lightning. It's 5:45 and the library closes by 7. Will I reach in time? I will have to return the books by any means. The due on them is more than Rs.50. With all these things in my mind, I close the gate and get onto the street. I look skywards to see huge nimbus clouds. The horizon towards Mehdipatnam bus stop is thickly covered with clouds as far as I can see.

I walk towards the bus stop. My new slippers are pinching me but the pain in a way seems pleasureable. Atleast it gives me reason to cry. My eyes are filled with tears. Why does everything go wrong with me? Though I have been slogging like a donkey since morning, I get scoldings from everyone for not doing my work.

Tears spill out of my eyes. While I try wiping them away, huge drops of rain fall on me. Is the sky crying for me? Or it does not want anyone to know that I am crying? It starts to drizzle. The rain pricks my skin. It trickles down my nape onto my back. I do have an umbrella. But why should I use it? Do I want to fall sick? Atleast then people will start caring for me. But no. I will NOT fall sick. I don't want to be dependent on anyone. I need my health the most. Only if I am healthy, I can face to fight the world. I unfurl my umbrella, a black one, and walk upright. I make sure that my books don't get wet.

I reach the bus stop just as a bus is about to leave. As I get in, the driver and conductor get out. I will have to wait. It's close to six. Will I reach the library on time? I don't want any new books but will I have enough time to return these and pay the fine?

A couple of minutes pass, before the conductor gets in. She starts issuing the tickets. But where is the driver? He is nowhere to be seen. I feel like crying again. I have to control myself. I am no more a school kid. I am old enough to be a mother of one. I mock at myself.

The bus driver gets in and starts adjusting the mirror. He lazily starts the bus and drives it at a snail's pace. By the time we get out of the bus stop, the drizzle has become a heavy downpour. I have consciously taken an aisle seat. I will not be drenched by the water dripping through the half-shut window.

There is traffic jam at each and every signal. On most of the roads, the water level has risen. We are moving slowly and steadily. I am beginning to like the driver. He is stopping at each bus stop and waiting patiently for all the passengers to get in. He even stops in between stops for old people or ladies. He seems to be a caring person. I feel like appreciating his efforts.

It's 6:40 and there are two more stops to go. Will I reach on time? What if I dont? I will take another bus and return. A lady with a baby gets into the bus and I get up to give her my seat. She gives me a victorious smile which means:"Arey Buddhu! See how chaalu I am to get a seat!" I should not have got up. But old habits die hard. How can people not appreciate a good gesture! I am standing behind the driver's seat. During a turn, I almost fall down. I somehow manage to balance myself. The driver gives me look that seems to say: "Why are you standing here?" or "Don't you know how to stand?" No one cares for me.

My stop has come. I jump from the last step of the bus onto the pavement. There's water everywhere. I wonder if the signal is red, so that I can cross easily. But I can't see anything. It's already dark and it's also raining very heavily. Twice I try crossing and suddenly a vehicle vrooms past and I am forced to get back onto the pavement. Finally, the signal turns red or I assume it to be red as all the vehicles halt at the zebra-crossing. I quickly cross one half of the road. I am underneath the Secretariat flyover now. There are loads of two-wheelers parked and people waiting for the rain to stop.

While I am crossing the other half, I realize that the water, on the road, came above my ankles. I quickly reach the other side of the road. I am on the pavement walking towards the gate. I am shocked to see that the water is almost on level with the footpath. There is a man in front of me, folding his trousers almost upto his knees. I follow him to get down the footpath to get inside the compound. At the corner of the road, a car is stuck in the mud. The driver raises the engine but the vehicle refuses to budge. I try not to get disheartened and I don't want to look at the watch.

Holding the gate railing, for support, I get down the footpath and get in. There are lots of people standing at the entrance of the library. Everybody is waiting for the rain to stop. I close my umbrella and stop at the security. I take my books out and show him my card.

The entire floor of the library is dirty with footprints of the muddy boots and slippers. I directly go to the issue/return counter to return my books. The librarian says that the due amount is Rs.54. I go to the next counter to pay the due.

Now I can look at the time. It's 6:55PM. I decided that I would not take anymore books. Enough of rushing to return them, even though I dont complete reading them. I know, I will not have time for any of my hobbies. Life's cruel!

Yet my love for books attract me to the shelves. I go around just to get the feel of being in the library. First I look at the Agatha Christie novels to see if "One, Two, Buckle my shoe" is on the rack. As expected, it isn't.

All the lights are switched off, an indicator for the closure of the library. I walk towards the exit. It's crowded with people. I find my way out. The security guard guides me to a shelter outside the library. I stand there.

The rain has not stopped. Infact the water level on the roads have increased. The water is now on the pavements as well. How am I going to find my way to the bus stop? There may be open manholes on the road. I get very nervous. What if I were to stay here till the rain stops? But it is already 7:15. It is not that safe. If someone were with me now, it would be a great moral support to me. But who will accompany me? The one soul who said, would come, broke the promise as usual. What if I call up and ask? Then what? It will only worsen the situation. Are you ready to hear a "No"? Are you ready to see your expectations being trampled upon?

Will I have to stay here through the night? This is not office, where you can safely sit for hours together. What do I do? If anyone starts walking, I can follow them. There are so many standing under this shelter. People are only getting under, no one is getting out.

I have been watching this traffic policeman for the past half an hour. He has been asking each and every vehicle to slow down. I did not know that there are still sincere persons living in this bad bad world. He has been helping people cross the road. He has been helping move the vehicles stuck in the water. Shall I ask him to help me? But I am not used to asking anything.

A call from home.
"When will you be back?"
"As soon as I can."
"Try to be back soon."

I have decided that it's time that someone takes an initiative to get out. Why can't that someone be ME?

I unfurl my umbrella and get into the rain. One or twice I stumble. The water is cold. It is almost knee deep. I did not expect it to be that deep. I slowly reach the gate. I observe two people following me. I hold the gate railing and walk towards the footpath. The water is still deeper here. There are two men standing there. One asks, "Why do you need to venture out in this rain?". I reply, "I need to get back home and it's already getting very late." Meanwhile the two people following me, overtake me. Now I start following them. But they get into the very next building. I have to face this all alone.

I walk cautiously holding onto poles or any other objects on the roadside for support. The man who spoke to me near the gate, is walking with me. He guides me a little. But we reach the end of the footpath, we become doubtful of our progress. There is a petrol bunk on our left-hand side and that stretch of the road has been uneven for ages. What do I do?

Meanwhile two ambulances pass by. I am a little scared.

As the petrol bunk is still under repair or renovation, whichever it is, there is a rope tied across the entry of it. I hold it for support and walk across it. The water gets deeper and it pushes our feet whenever any vehicle passes by. My fellow escort walks towards the road as it's high ground there. I wade through the water and follow him.

Finally I am at the bus stop, waiting for the bus. I stand, on the road, not under the bus-shelter. Two buses come at the same time. Both are 5Ks. The first one is a Setwin bus. There is hardly any place to stand. I want a place to sit. I think that the other bus may have unoccupied seats. I run towards it. But it's also jam-packed. The Setwin is much better. But before I can reach it, the bus pulls away. I have missed both the buses.

After a 10 minute wait, I see another bus. But I cant see it's number. Is it 113? Yes, it is. I move closer. Oh no! It is 113A, doesn't go to Mehdipatnam. The driver asks me where I have to go. I reply, "Mehdipatnam." He asks me to get in and get down at Ladki-ka-pul. I hesitate. But yes, he is right. I will get more number of buses there. I get in and stand just behind the driver's seat.

The driver shows me 119 in front of our bus and says, "You can take this bus." Even the conductor is very kind and talks affectionately. He also suggests the buses that I can take. Are they thinking that I am new to the city? Or am I looking very worried and tense?

I get down at Ladki-ka-pul and immediately get another bus. It is a bus to HCU. When I get in, I notice that there is one person in each row and noone is willing to give place for me to sit. The reason that they give is: Water is dripping from the window and they will get wet. A man sitting in the ladies seat, very reluctantly, gets up.

I sit. Immediately another lady gets it and I am made to sit at the window. I don't mind the water falling on my me.

I call up home to tell them that I am safe. I am asked to go to our ex-neighbor's place to return their keys. Who is bothered about my life! But in a way, all through my return journey, I am made to realize that even strangers care for me. First, the man who guided me till the bus stop, then the 113A's bus driver and conductor. Even this HCU bus driver is also kind enough to stop the bus near to my house.

I am a little relieved but still I have to cross Amba Theatre where there are two or three open manholes. I take the main road. Luckily there is not much of water on the road. May be I did not rain much in Mehdipatnam.

By the time I reach home, the rain has stopped. Even my mind is blank. I feel as though my brain has stopped functioning. I feel tired and exhausted.

Rain is said to be romantic but for the first time in my life, I realized what kind of a nuisance it is.

A Realization in life!

Today someone has made me realize yet again, how difficult it is to try not to hurt others' feelings... I do anything and everything to make sure that I don't hurt anybody either physically or mentally.. But why is this world like this? People, even our closest of friends, bring pain to us without even thinking twice... They lie without even batting the eyelid.. They say things that we don't like to, don't want to hear.. They do things that make us cry... They crack practical jokes on us... Why? Why? After all is done, they say, "Sorry!" Sorry? My foot! Can the words, once uttered, be taken back? Can the pain die with a single word, "Sorry"?

And all the while, even when I know that something like this may happen... Someone may hurt me.. Yet why do I try to make them feel happy? Why do I take care of them when I know they don't even bother if I am alive or not? Why do I support them when I know that they will not be there, when I need them the most?

I get insulted... I am treated badly... but still I go back to them...

I get hurt; it pains.. but still I continue to love them. Why? Why can't I hate people? Is it a sin to love everyone, to be kind to everyone? Is it wrong to believe in your own friends? Then why am I made to suffer?

For all those who are waiting for my Blog entries

Oh my dears!

My System at home has crashed..
And the system in office is held up with official work...
What to do? What to do?

All my works are incomplete..
Moreover, I am no great typist to feed in the data fast into the system...
All my works are in tattered papers..
I am trying my best to safeguard them from suspecting eyes of mice...

Oh God!
Give me back my system, recover it from crashing...
If not my system, give me some time to put my works in the blog...
If not time, give me some person who can type fast...
If not anything, atleast give some patience to all my blog readers...

The Orphaned Gift

The sound of the phone ringing pierced in to the calm of the office. She had yet again forgotten to put her mobile in silent mode. She cursed herself and flipped the flap of the mobile. The call was from her special friend. She never knew what he was to her. A friend? A colleague? A boyfriend? A lover? Well, she never understood her relation with him and didn’t bother herself to find out. He was her special friend. That was what she wanted him to be!

She greeted him with a “Hi!”
“Hi Sweetheart!” he replied. The mere mention of ‘Sweetheart’ made her heart skip a beat. How could she stay away from him for a week! Unfortunately she wouldn’t even be able to call him up during her stay at her auntie’s place.

“Hello? Are you still alive?” he asked. She laughed.
“Yes,” she answered, “I will be out of town for a week.”
“Why?”
“Well, I am visiting my aunts.”
“Oh!”
“What ‘Oh!’? You know that I hate that word.”
“Cool down dear,” he cooed, “I was just wondering how can this be possible.”
“How can ‘what’ be possible?”
“Well, we both will be out of the city during the same time.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Arey buddhu! I am also leaving tonight and will be back only after a week.”
“Oh!”
“Now who is saying ‘Oh!’?”
“Sorry!”
“I thought you would say: ‘Sorry’,” he grinned, “What do you want me to get for you?”
“Nothing!”
“Shall I get a book for you?”
“No. Don’t waste money on books, dear. I already have memberships in two libraries. Moreover, I can’t maintain books and I can’t bear to see them rotting in the shelves or the attics.”
“Okay, okay. I was not asking for a lecture!”
“Now you tell me. What do you want me to get for you?”

She loved to chat with him over the phone. She loved his voice and his laughter. She always wondered how they managed to talk for hours together, though both of them knew each other’s responses.



During her journey, she sat gazing at the changing landscapes through the train’s windows. But her mind was elsewhere. She was reliving the moments with him. How could she ever live without him? But deep inside her, she knew that separation was certain to happen sometime or the other in future. She thought about what he had asked her to get for him. If it had been someone else, she wouldn’t have bought such a thing. She did not believe in purchasing gifts but this time it was different. She was buying it for her special friend. It was the first time he had asked something. Every time she had asked, “what do you want me to get for you?”; he would reply, “I hope you never return” or “just stay there and don’t come back.” These responses would hurt her feelings a lot, but she would shrug them off with a brave heart.



“Do you want this bag?” asked auntie.
She and her auntie were out shopping. They were passing by a lane full of small makeshift shops. All the wares were displayed on bandis that were pushed around or in baskets that were carried around. There was a lot of hustle and bustle with people bargaining more and buying less!

She and her auntie walked around the shops, scanning all the articles and pausing once in a while to check out an item that caught their interest. She did not like buying girlie things like rubber bands, clips, bindis etc. yet did not want to disappoint her auntie’s offers of buying hr this thing or that.

While her auntie was bargaining over the cost of a cushion cover, she was looking at the adjacent stalls. All of a sudden, something caught her attention. She could not believe her eyes. The article that her lover had asked for was right in front of her eyes. He had said that it was rare and very difficult to get. Then how could be in a bandi like this? The shopkeeper, sensing her interest in the item removed it from display, dusted it and placed it in her hands. She flipped it over. Was she dreaming?

Meanwhile, her auntie came and stood beside her. “I didn’t buy the cushion cover,” she said, “he was not willing to reduce its price and moreover…” she stopped her sentence mid-way and looked at her niece. “What happened Kanna?” she asked, “Do you buy this?” She tried to talk but could not find her voice. All that she could do was to nod her head vigorously. But her auntie disapproved of the item. “You should not buy such things on streets. I will take you to a big shop near our house.” But she was not at all listening to her auntie. She asked for the price.
“110 rupees,” replied the shopkeeper.
“Is there any discount?”
“Well, we hardly get any profit in selling these, but I can give it to you for 90.”
“I will give 75,” she said. She had learnt some of the art of bargaining from her auntie. “80. Nothing less,” retorted the shopkeeper, putting the article in a cover and thrusting it in her hands. She couldn’t get it anywhere else. Moreover, there was no time left for shopping. She was leaving on the same day. She paid the shopkeeper and put the poly-bag in her shoulder bag. Her auntie was startled. Her niece never spent money on unnecessary things. She wouldn’t buy things that were used only once and later were of no use.
“You usually don’t buy these,” her auntie remarked.
“Yes, but this is not for me but for a friend.”
“But still, one can always borrow it from someone. Why buy?”
“Absolutely right! But he is different. He likes not just to borrow but to own them.”



She was on her way back home. There was a naughty low on her face. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of the gift she had bought for him. How will she wrap it? If she wrapped it directly, he would make it out by its shape. She decided to put it in a cylindrical box and wrap it so that he would not be able to guess it until he saw it for himself. There was a problem of giving it to him. Should she call him to the office canteen and give it? Or should she place it at his desk? No, if she put it at his desk, anybody might open it; or worse, they might be wondering why she out it at his desk, without giving it to him directly. Should she write some note and put in inside? No, in that case, he will know that the gift is from her. She wanted it to be a surprise for him. Should she post it? She didn’t know his postal address. Could she make use of the internal courier service in the office? Then the gift will be delivered to his desk but how would she get an acknowledgement without specifying her name (as sender)? She might tell another colleague of hers to courier it to him. But she did not want another soul except him and her to know about the gift. Finally, she decided that she would put it in her desk and give the desk keys to him during the weekend. Now that all the things related to the gift were sorted out, she could sleep in peace!



It was her first day (after the vacation) to her office. All the while she worked, she sang and hummed. Every once in a while, she would open her desk drawer and look at the gift. All her friends observed the mysterious smile on her face and asked her if she had found a boyfriend at her auntie’s place. A smile was all that they got in reply!

“Hello!”
“Yes?”
“Busy?”
“A little. What is it?”
“Well, how was your trip?”
“Great! And yours?”
Instead of replying, she asked, “What did you get for me?”
“I came back. Don’t you think that’s a great gift for you?”
“Oh!”
He went on and on about his office work and about the tasks that were assigned to him. When she could not tolerate any longer, she interrupted him, “Will you not ask me what I have got for you?”
“What did you get for me?” he asked.
“Try guessing,” she teased.
“You returned. Is that the gift?”
“No.”
“Then you tell me. What is it?”
“Guess dear.”
“I can’t. Nothing comes to my mind.”
“Okay! Fine! Try thrice. If you still don’t get it, then I will tell you.” While he was still wondering, she added, “For your information, I haven’t been to the beach. So, it can be neither shells nor sand!” Before she could finish, he said hurriedly, “I think I have got a call from the onsite coordinator. Will talk to you later.” Then the line went dead.



“What will you have?” he asked.
“Curd rice,” she replied.
“Thought so!”
They were at a hotel having their lunch. She was biting her nails and was muttering to herself.
“Why are you looking so disappointed?” he enquired.
“I should have got your gift. How could I forget! I am a big fool!”
“Sometimes you do say the truth!” he teased but had to shield his face from her punch.
“It’s okay,” he assured her, “The gift is not going to run away. I can take it anytime.”

They chatted while they ate. Most of the time, books were the sole topic of their conversation. Both of them were avid readers. Reading was as important to them as eating or sleeping. They would take out at least half an hour in their daily routine and dedicate it for reading.

“Do you know, I bought a lot of books last week?” he said eagerly.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I have also bought the book of Agatha Christie: ‘One, two, buckle my shoe’” I never thought I would get it. It is probably out of print and…”
She tried hard to concentrate on his words but could not. How could he do this to her/ why did this happen? Whose fault was it? Was it a misunderstanding? She struggled to retain her calm.
“Why are you so silent?” he inquired with a concern in his face. She ignored the question and asked him, “I think you presented a book to your nephew for his birthday?”
“Yes. ‘Aesop’s fables’. Why do you ask?” he was wondering why she was so interested in something that happened two months back.
“Well, if he had already read it, what would you have done?”
“No, I asked him when I gave him the gift. He said that he hadn’t read the stories.”
“Suppose, he had already read, then?’ she insisted.
“Then,” he said after a pause, “I would have forced him to read it again!”
There was a twinkle in his eye. He did not notice the tears that were waiting to burst out of her eyes. She stifles a sob and asked him, “What if he already had the book?”
He was oblivious to her state of mind. He thought for a while before responding. Finally his answer was: “I would ask my nephew to preserve it and use it as an antique piece after 20 years!”


She sighed. She did not know what to do. All her dreams were shattered. Now what would she do with the book that she bought for him. She remembered how she had forced herself not to read the book in the train. She had told herself that he had to be the first one to read the book. She had hid it from her auntie lest she should read it. She did not even allow her family members to glance through the pages. It belonged to him and only he had the privilege of reading it first.

Later when she went to his house, she saw his copy of the book lying innocently on the shelf. When he caught her staring at it, he offered, “Take this book and read it. It is a very good one. You will like it.” She felt like snatching it out of his hands and throwing it onto the floor. Instead, she ran a finger on its cover. She refused to read it. “Oh! You must be reading something else. A Wilbur Smith?” “No,” she replied. How could she read anything? Whichever book she saw, reminded her of this book that she had so lovingly bought for him. The moon and stars on the cover page would flash in front of her. She would not be able to enjoy reading. She sighed deeply.



She was getting ready to go out with her friends, when he called her. Her hands were full of hairpins. She managed to balance her mobile between her neck and shoulder. There was no ‘Hi’, no ‘Hello’. He immediately started complaining.
“You haven’t given me my gift yet.”
“You will not get it,” she said firmly.
“Why? Don’t I deserve it anymore?” he frowned.
“The gift is not worthy of you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t need it anymore.”
“Why not dear?”

She did not reply. A long silence followed. He was the one to talk first.
“Do I already have it?” he inquired.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Now, stop beating around the bush. What is the gift? Tell me.”
“You don’t need it, dear.”
“But still it was bought for me.”
“So?”
“So, I have a right over it.”
“In that case, it is in my desk drawer. You can see it but I know, you will not take it.”
“Is it a book?”

She kept quiet. She could not answer. When she couldn’t bear the silence, she said, “I can’t say. You find out.” He got angry and cut the call.


What would she do with the book? She didn’t want to read it. Should she give it to their office library? Then, every time she went to the library, it would catch her eye. Should she throw it away? No. Should she keep it? But it would remind her of this incident whenever she saw it.

The End :-)

@PR Nagar home

Thanks a lot for each one of those ppl who came home yesterday...

Well, initially when I sent the invitation to everyone, I did not know how many ppl would turn up.. I was hesitant to insist or force anybody to come home becoz everyone would have their own plans and weekend is the only time when we all get time to spend at home... I wanted all the DBAs to be a part of this get-together.. But I knew most of them work on weekends..

When I found out from each one of the persons invited, I realized that only 6 to 7 ppl would turn up... But on Sunday morning, I got calls from Spoo and Vani that they would not come... I was very upset.. I thought that only Papa, Karthik and Suresh would come home( I could not reach Maddy over phone)

First Papa came home, followed by Suresh.. Then Karthik and Shashank came in Karthik's car(Karthik, you drive well dear except for the car having to be restarted a couple of times).. It was a surprise for me to see Shashank, as he told me he would not come...

We all were starving but had to wait for our Mad Maddy! :-) Meanwhile we hit everyone.. Oops.. played with everyone with a large, yellow, light-weight ball.. Papa complained that I invited her home and was getting her hit black-n-blue... ;-)

Everyone liked the house as it is big and has a number of rooms, a nice place to play hide-n-seek.. Karthik was asking me if he can rent the house.. We showed him a special room for him to stay - the bathroom.. hahaha :-D

In this context, I would take the opportunity to thank someone who has helped me a lot in getting the house to a proper shape.. I would not want to embarass the person by mentioning names, but I would like to say: Thanks a lot lot lot, dear. Without you, nothing would have been possible! :-)

When Maddy finally called up from Padma Rao nagar bus stop, all of us went to receive her.. First Suresh and Shashank in Suresh's super-red pulsar.. And the remaining went by Karthik's car... They reached before us, as Karthik had to start the car again and again ;-)

When Maddy saw Suresh and Shashank on the bike, she was wondering where she has to sit to get back home.. She thought if she had to sit on the tank of the pulsar? Then she spotted us in the car.. She also had a dose of Karthik's driving while going home.. :-)

Once home, we all had our lunch.. Shashank ate the least... Everyone said the food was good! I hope they meant it :-)

Then, all of us started playing cards... The game's called "Donkey" and every time some one became a "D" or a "DO", we sang the title song of Don! :-D
As everyone was getting lazy to distribute the cards, someone suggested a different way of doing it, by throwing the cards in the air and asking each of us to catch 7cards each! There was tough competition amongst Maddy, Karthik and Shashank to become Don..i mean...Donkey! Pradeepa also became one of the leading competitors! As we could not wait to see a "D-O-N-K-E-Y", we shortened the game to make it a "P-I-G" Well, PIG also means Pretty-Indian-Girl.. So, Shashank was teasing that already there were 3 PIGs in the room! But the actual title of PIG was gained by our Karthik, especially for his unique way of distributing the cards.. He managed to give away the cards to everyone, but no one got "the Spade Ace".. So, the game ended without being played and Karthik became winner of the title.. Oops.. loser of that game...

Pradeepa left for home first, as she had promised that she would be back home by 3(it was already 4:30).. but there was a great hunt for her handbag.. Shashank had hid it in one of our bags... Maddy helped her in finding it! For this, Shashank planned to take revenge on Maddy!

Karthik was asking for coffee every now and then("Oka Coffee unte, Adhiri poyedhi.. Oka coffee unte baagundedhi.. Oka coffee unte ayipoyedhi..") As you all know I don't go into the kitchen at all, leave alone, cooking or making tea/coffee! Everyone especially Shashank and Karthik had to wait a long long time before getting anything to drink..

Going to movie was another great story:
Our family members were planning to go for a movie but it was all decided at 5:50 when all the shows start off... Suresh offered to get the tickets for "Aduvari maatalaku...". But going to Manju was too late then, so we decided to go to Amba theatre, mehdipatnam... The show starts there at 7... Suresh and Karthik left by the red-red pulsar to get the tickets while I also asked Srividya(who lives in MP) to stand in the queue..

Shashank was not in mood to see Telugu movie, So, Suresh dropped him at Secbad Railway station. Maddy also left for home after sometime.

When we all left home, it started raining. When we reached Masab Tank, Karthik phoned that they could not get tickets.. I was wondering whether to believe him or not.. As we all know, our group is known for playing pranks.. So, we never know what is the truth.. But when we reached MP, we realized they were telling the truth... Suresh stood at the theatre drenched from head-to-toe! Karthik got into our car while Suresh wished us good-bye! Sorry, Suri! Becoz of us you had to get wet!

Then we all decided to go for the second show at Manju.. Near Manju, Karthik and I got down while the rest left for home to have dinner... Before they could leave, something stopped them.. Do you know what it was? Mouth-watering smell of Bajjis from a road-side bandi... We packed mirchis, aalu-bajji and masala vada for them. Karthik and I also had them at the bandi, till we could eat no more.. We waited in the queue for the tickets... Once we got the tickets, we still had to spend one hour before the show started..

We looked around and found furniture showroom.. We went in and looked around.. We were commenting on the furniture pieces there. But the shop owner spoiled our fun by following all around.. So, we quickly got out. It was drizzling. We went to Taj Mahal hotel just to get out of the rain. Karthik's dream of the day was satisfied here when he ordered for coffee for himself.. I had a fruit-salad with icecream.. Karthik was teasing me saying: "vaana lo icecream enti. pichchi combination!"

At ten minutes to 9, we reached the theatre but my family members were no where to be seen. We waited and waited and waited. We could not even reach their mobile. Had to miss first five minutes of the movie.

My mom had packed dosas for our dinner.. We had them during the interval between the movie. After movie, we reached home. Karthik was wondering if he will reach home(in his lovely car!) in the dead of the night without dashing a couple of people... We didnot want any people to kick the bucket because of Karthik's dealy driving, hence he stayed at my place for the night.

I started snoring(not literally!) as soon as I hit the bed. Well, that's how the great day came to an end!

The homecoming

I hear you call out my name,
Again and again and again.
Your voice is clear and loud,
Above the din of the crowd.

Your voice is music to my ear,
And your presence, a summer shower.

When I turn around,
You lift me off the ground,
And turn me round
And round and round.

Now I know
That you will never let me go.
I am safe in your embrace
Always and always.

My wish of being with you,
Has finally come true!

The endless wait

A long queue of your closed ones,
Waiting for you to give them some time...

With some, you talk over phone,
While I get a user-busy tone...

With some, you keep sending SMSs
While I wait for ONE reply to my endless messages...

With some, you take some time out for mailing
While I long to see your name in my inbox...

With some, you have your dinner and luncheon,
While I starve for your attention...

With some, you talk pleasantly,
While I get always wounded by your harsh words...

Will you ever see my tear-stricken face?
Will you ever hear the longing in my voice?
Will you ever feel my pain?
Why are you doing this to me?

You say, I am closest to you;
Yet, I am the one who is hurt the most!
What an irony!

I just want you to know
That I am still waiting for my turn
At the end
Of the queue of your friends,
Let's see what comes first,
My turn or my end!

It hurts!

Every word pricking!
Every line insulting!
Every sentence sarcastic!

How much ever you insult me,
How many ever times you embarass me,
How many ever times you ignore me,
Why do I still carry on with you?

I know why and you know it too!
The truth is:
You are free, but I am tied to you.
I am yours, but I know you may never be mine.

Yes, I will have to swallow everything
And remain calm
Because you know and I know
That I have nowhere to go...

The truth is:
You will never stop hurting me,
And I will always be with you and continue to live with these heartaches!