Tag Archives: Life

#309 That happy face with those sad eyes

Had just moved in to a different apartment last monsoon, when one day as I walked towards the elevator, I heard someone sniffing and following me. I turned back scared, and he stopped. I moved on, took the elevator to the third floor. He ran after me, took the stairs instead. Even before the elevator could reach the floor, he was already standing in front of it. I was a bit scared. I scrambled to open the door and hastily closed it shut. I looked out of the eye hole in the door and found him still standing there, waiting for me to open the door, perhaps. I, however, felt safe inside. He left after a while.

This continued everyday. If he would be playing around at the time of my arrival, he would repeat the same exercise! Days passed and so did months. Nothing changed, at all. Sometimes he would follow my Activa till the garage and then stand by waiting for me to talk to him. But I would get scared, as usual. I never realised what he was trying to tell me. As days went by, he got lesser playful, and would sit in that corner all day and scratch himself.

Few months back, she became an official member of my family and moved in to my place. He would follow her as well, but only till the elevator. He never followed her up till the door. She was a bit scared of him too, and she did not like the fact that I admired him at times. I would always say “hi.. what’s up” in my usual style and he would respond by a smile, or so I thought. We both felt that he needed to be taken better care of.

Yesterday morning, our maid came home to work, and told us that he was having difficulty in breathing. While on our way to the picnic we saw him in his corner, lying down, breathing really heavy. He looked sick. He looked as if he was breathing his last. I suddenly got a very strange feeling within. It is difficult to explain, but I have never seen anyone breathing his last. I almost felt a vacuum inside, of having to face a loss. We went for the picnic and forgot what we saw. When we were back at around 4, I tried to get a glimpse of him even as I was trying to park the car. All I could see was his rear covered by a sheet of cloth. We got down and inched a bit slowly to be able to look at him better, and what we saw, was a very sorry scene. I just stood there, like a stone, not understanding what was wrong. My heart skipped a beat as I realised that he laid still.  His mouth was open wide and his head was tilted backwards. I watched his stomach, it was not going up and down. I knew that was it. We lowered our heads and walked back to the elevator, with a very strange and sad feeling in our hearts. As we entered the elevator, we looked at his favorite spot at the end of the foyer.

I told her – “I will miss him”
She replied – “Me too”

Today morning, his corner was clean and washed. It was however, empty.

We will miss you, Moti…


#276 Phatphati

Stree: Yahan se left
RFB: Are you sure?
Stree: Haan bey!

Stree: Bass bass, yahin pe rok de
RFB: Gatcha!
Stree: Do I need to sign the roster?!!??

Sometime before that:

Rickshaw: Raja, raja, raja… %#@%@ @^#%$%#@ @# #@%#2
Stree: Appu Raja!
RFB: Really? Man, you have awesome memory!
Stree: \m/
RFB: Does it sound like that? I think it is some marathi song
Stree: The words are not the same I think, but it is Appu Raja
RFB: The music sounds different too!
Stree: Yeh, but it is Appu Raja! It is just like that!

Sometime before that…

Mgupta4: Are you leaving?
RFB: Ye ye!
Stree: Ok guys, I am leaving too. Marathe, lets go!
RFB: I got my phatphati.
Stree: You mean, Ducati??
RFB: Yeh, a 100cc Ducati!! Do you want a lift?
A’jee-K’wale: It is called a ‘ride’, not a ‘lift’!
RFB: Like, ‘pillion’?
A’jee-K’wale: \m/
RFB: Gatcha!
RFB: Lets go Stree!

Sometime before that…

RFB: Stree, Stree… Hey Stree…
Stree smiles across the glass divider
RFB: How about this: “Stree, Stree, Nice Stree”
Stree: What?
RFB: Have you watched the movie ‘UP’? In that there is this little boy who goes around the old man’s house searching for a snipe, calling out – ‘Snipe Snipe, nice Snipe, Come out Snipe… Clap Clap Clap!’
Stree: Yeh!
RFB: So how about: “Stree Stree, Nice Stree, Clap Clap Clap!”
Stree: I will give your supari!

Question: Who had the last laugh?


#271 November 2009 Wallpaper

Yes I know it is totally lame to have just two posts in the last month, but here it is…

CDR200911_1280w

The above wallpaper is for widescreen monitors (1280 x 800p). Those who wish for a regular (1024 x 768p) click here.

You may find it sad, but that is how I am feeling right now~
Happy November.


#261 The secret garden of life

What is it that is more beautiful than…

Standing in your balcony and letting the wind rush at your face with droplets of rain making you feel ever so fresh

Going for a ride with your sweetheart and getting drenched in the rain

Teaching innocent kids on a weekend when you can go for a movie

Sipping a cup of vanilla latte with whipped cream on top

Listening to beautiful music and feeling as if the song is sung for you

Going out for dinner and having the most amazing sushi in town

What is it that is more beautiful than… living your dream?


#253 Melody of life

He was sitting on his beloved wooden rocking chair in the middle of the room with high ceiling and white washed walls. There was the old fan from his youth rotating above his head, slowly like a crank shaft, greyed much like the remaining few hair on the back of his head. The window was open and the light outside was dark, much like the light just after sunset and just before the night.

The television set was switched on, though the only visible elements on it were the microwave background radiations coming from far edges of the universe much like the thoughts in his aged brain. There was a silent warmth in the room. He was wearing a white vest and a trouser below. Beside his chair was a table, with a telephone, a notepad and a few medicines. There was a small bottle of perfume. A drawer under the desk had photo albums, a couple of diaries and a pencil.

He was waiting for her to come and cook some food for dinner. His meals used to be small and well spaced out. He had just had some chips with tea. He had turned on the television to watch the evening news. That and an old transistor radio were perhaps his only source of information of the outside world. Long long ago his eyes were blacker than they were at that moment. And he could read the details of each politician’s characters, and the scores of each cricket match. Now he was limited only to headlines. It had got difficult for him to keep a track of the fast-paced yearly rotation of the person occupying the Prime Minister’s post! Suddenly the door bell rang, and he looked up at the clock on the wall. It was eight, he saw, and got up to open the door.

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