Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts

Saturday, July 10, 2010


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 12; the twelfth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

“Send this to 50 other people or….”
Jim knew what the “repercussions” were of not forwarding chain e-mails and so mechanically he clicked the forward button and sent it to his only pal in the office – ‘Princess Forward’ Fiona. She was the go-to girl if you wanted any forward e-mails. She could bombard your inbox with forwards like pick-a-color-and-find-your-soul mate e-mails, e-mails with Goddesses and Deities and even more. She even badgered people to post their wish-lists to a birthday website so much that Jim had to eventually give in.

Cheery and vivacious as a cheerleader Jim wondered often why she was so ‘wishful’ all the time. That very aspect of her irritated him but he did not approach her and complain. He never approached her. He did not appreciate too much wishful thinking. Infact he disliked the very thought of it.  Like clockwork Fiona peeped over her cubicle and gave Jim that pleasing smile as if it was the only thing she was waiting for all day.  

‘At least it works for someone’ wondered Jim. So, forwarded e-mails and a warm smile were only exchanged between them on a daily basis. Somehow, Jim wished it was more....But he wouldn't.
Sub-consciously Jim felt that smile of hers was different today, or was he imagining it?….he put his thoughts to rest. Fiona is as happy as sunshine, always. The chain e-mail then found its righteous place in the folder labeled ‘Junk’.
Yet, somehow he did not have the heart to delete it. He never knew why.

Day was as boring as a snore Jim felt if the clock was punishing him by ticking ever so slowly. He needed to get out of this miserable office. He pondered countless times on why he should quit this job that was squeezing the happiness out of his life. However, he was often shocked back into reality by the burden of the mortgage of the house he was planning to buy, the impending education loan he had to pay for and most importantly saving up for retirement. This job’s salary was the reason, the ONLY reason he was working there. He couldn't care less otherwise.
Fiona’s charming smile was only enough to ignite some passion to read a drone of a expense report but perhaps not for the other problems in his life. Poring over the expense sheets and graphs he thought why he was so very miserable a week before Christmas. ‘Tis the season to be jolly?…Bah! Humbug!

Why couldn’t he be happy as a daisy? Others hid their misery so well. He often wondered. He wished so much to be like Fiona. Cheery and upbeat regardless. He sighed.

Rumble rumble.
It was his stomach grumbling.
Involuntarily Jim got up and slouched like a zombie to the kitchen and poured him some decaf. He let out yet another sigh. Tapping the mug he leaned with his back towards the kitchen counter mulling over life and its insane possibilities. He was tired, very tired. He yawned and chugged down the decaf in a swish and headed back towards his desk. Having his boss catch him asleep was the last thing he needed today. Slouching back unwillingly into his chair, he fought slumber as he stared into the excel sheet.

It read: ‘The Sales office expense report dated January ………….’

And no sooner a moment had passed, Jim shook himself up with a start; quickly looked around afraid whether or not the boss had heard him snore or had used his desk as a pillow- he didn’t even know how long he was out.

‘Guess nobody saw me’ Jim thought.

His stomach now rumbled louder to a growl. He was very hungry. Looking at his watch he remembered that he missed his breakfast today again in order to catch the subway train. He got up and went to the kitchen again and rummaged through the fridge for a fruit or condiments for a sandwich or a piece of celery at the least.
Strangely, he found a wishbone. Right in the central compartment of the fridge, nothing but a wishbone!

‘And its not even Thanksgiving!’
He thought. He mulled for a while, and putting his aversions of luck and wishfulness to rest he gave it a firm snap. It broke into two. It’s believed that if one has the larger portion of the wishbone his or her wish would come true.

‘As if my day would get any better with a wishbone’

He catapulted the pieces into the trashcan. Turning around he waited for a familiar sound but instead came a metallic crackle. Was his hearing affected? Middle age was perhaps getting to him, he thought. Surprised, Jim turned back and looked over to the trash can. The bone had hit a metal lamp of some sort. Shiny gold and with intricate designs on its surface Jim examined the lamp against the kitchen light aghast thinking what in the world was a lamp doing in a office trash can?
Examining the lamp carefully, he found an inscription on the bottom of the lamp:

‘Make a Wish’
Was written in gold.

Chuckling silently, he headed back to his desk and sitting down he decided to give it a shot.
‘Perfect! Now I await a genie. Hmm.. 7 wishes was it?’
Perfectly aware that it wasn’t any good he chuckled some more and rubbed the lamp uninterestedly once.

Nothing happened.

He rubbed it twice.

Still nothing.

Yawning, he placed it onto his desk and yawned some more.


An e-mail flashed into his inbox.
‘Must be from Human Resources’, he thought
Nonchalantly he clicked open his inbox and it read-

To: Jim
Subject: Re: 3 wishes
Your wish is my command master!

Aghast Jim sat up in his seat. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was awake.
‘What’s this?! Oh wait, relax, must be a joke or something…’
Convinced it was an office joke doing the rounds, he examined the email and tried to trace back the address but to his surprise it showed it didn’t exist!

‘How is that possible?’
His heart was beating fast. In complete disbelief and he assumed he was imagining things he rummaged his desk for his spectacles and he something unusual caught his eye.

‘What the-‘

A bouquet of clover leaves held by a smiling leprechaun was placed right on his desk.
He was taken aback as to how he didn’t notice it all morning! Something didn't seem right. His heart now raced.

But what got Jim gasping was a smiling elderly lady dressed as fairy godmother tapping on his shoulder.

‘OH MY GOD!’ He yelped out and in a flash he was out of his chair, outside his office floor and into the empty elevator and frantically pressing the Basement button.

‘What the hell is happening to me!
Oh my god I’m hallucinating!
I gotta go to the hospital. What’s happening to me??!!’ he gasped aloud in the elevator.

No sooner did the elevator ding open into the basement there was a flash of light and cries of:



'Happy Birthday'

Yelled everyone in the basement in chorus.
There was Fiona carrying a large cake and all the rest of the office mates including the fairy godmother (who turned out to be the cleaning lady) all in confetti and balloons happily smiling towards Jim. Fiona giggled as she saw Jim’s panicky yet confused expression. He looked dazed and confused as everyone pulled him out of the elevator and into a colorfully decorated basement- it never looked the same dingy basement like before- and were exchanging hugs and laughs all around. Every one named Fiona as the mastermind behind the birthday prank.

'How could I forget my own birthday!' Jim smacked himself in the head and chuckled in disbelief that he fell right into their trap. Correction: Fiona’s carefully crafted trap.

He laughed out loud as he learned of the details of her plan to freak Jim out right before him rushing to his car. He now realized, she knew him so well. At that very moment ignoring the crowd of people around him, Jim noticed her again and noticed her noticing him- her smile was different, more mischievous, more loving-and he smiled back, in kind acknowledgment.

After the party came to an end and everyone had left for the day, Jim asked Fiona as he escorted her to her car.

‘So…. You did all this for me? But why ?’

‘You know Jim; you should start believing things more. Perhaps it would come true’ she said and smiled kindly.

‘Huh?‘ That wasn’t a straight reply. ‘But-‘

Before Jim could probe more, Fiona gave him a quick but tight hug and rushed to her car.

Jim looked dazed and confused as before.

With a smiling goodbye wave she left in her car and Jim waved back, still stunned.

He then noticed something sticking in his shirt pocket-

A note, it read:

My dear Jim,

Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling through
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true

Loads of Love,

At that very moment, Jim smiled widely as he now knew his coming days would never be the same again.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Saturday, June 5, 2010


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 11; the eleventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Mrs Sharma and her brigade was at the door. As usual.
“He’s so naughty Neeta. Not that I am complaining” she said as matter-of-factly while biting into the sandwich; “He needs to be- you know- taught to behave” She flashed her fake smile at me.

“Look at my children – Simple and Dimpy- So well behaved. No?”
I flashed my fake smile at her. The other day I had seen them sneaking out Mrs. Sharma’s make up and forcefully applying it on their maid’s face. It reminded me of the movie Chalbaaz. Yes the Sridevi one.

Draining her tea, Mr. Varma adjusted herself on our couch and asked “So, your Mister…. Is he not at home?” She asked speculatively. “Today is Sunday- No work No?”

“Well- er- he’s out of town on government work” I gave my well rehearsed reply. “You know the summers are about to start. He’s been asked to help with the Government Project”

“Of course of course. I understand.” She cleared her throat and made a face. She sure masked any signs of "understanding".
“ I just asked because the last time I saw him…” she pretended to mentally calculate and said “… was ten months ago” “Right after you moved in here”

Some of the ladies took a mini gasp at my statement minus the background score of a televised soap. In a town like ours, for a husband to be away from his family was the second most gossiped topic at the kitty party circles, building corridors and playground parks for unemployed wives of rich businessmen.

I sighed. “Yes, but his work is important. You know how government projects are. Er- please have more cake. I baked it” saying that I glanced at my plate to see the leftovers of my son’s birthday cake. I quickly excused myself to refill more potato chips and rushed to the kitchen.

I could still hear the chatter of the ladies and munching of crisps as I absentmindedly filled the bowl with more chips. A sideways glance and I saw my son all tired and angelically curled up in his bed still having his brand new sneakers on him clutching his brand new Iron Man figurine.

Banter in the family room ceased after the neighbours had left. I started to clean up and then-
“You sure know how to make an entry” I said.

“Well. Its my son’s birthday. I wouldn’t miss it for all the stars in the galaxy.” He said while climbing through the window.

“Well then you should have been there to help me field the questions. You heard them-“ And unconsciously I had started to well up. He noticed this and in a flash he was right beside me.

“I know my dear. I cannot apologise enough. It is- difficult – for me. You do understand don’t you? See, I have got something for you”

I turned to him and a shining stone gleamed out of his hand. It shone with such a gleam that I could not be angry at him for long. It was beautiful. Just like him.

I sniffed. “Ah! All the sacrifices I need to make while being married to a super human” I mocked lovingly at him.

He chuckled. “Being hidden from the eyes of world is easy. But being hidden from you….I cannot even think of it”

While his cape billowed in the cool night breeze, I forgot all my worries and the surrealism of it in his sweet embrace.


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Sweet Agony

She looked at the ceiling and closed her eyes. It was the only comfort she sought.
She couldn’t take it anymore.

She grabbed the bedspread harder and tugged it. She had to stop it, but how?

She couldn’t. Not yet. It wasn’t time.
She would know when it was time.

But the pain…the agonizing pain...

She then saw his handsome sweaty face. He held her hand.
She let him.

He leaned to kiss her.
She turned her face away.

She didn’t know what to think.
Pain tortured her body. But his face brought back memories.
Sweet memories; didn’t alleviate her from suffering.

She had to be strong. No matter what.

He had given her this pain. Of the sweet agony with him that made her suffer.
Why now? She wondered.

He held her hand tighter.

Sweat beads shone over her forehead glistening in the light.

She bit her lip and turned to face him again. He was smiling. The same smile that made her fall in love with him all again.

Her body contorted with every ache. Numbness set in.

She had enough. It was time.

She let go with all the force she could muster. Her lip bled.

And then it was all over.

A sound she was longing for filled the room. It was melodious as ever. She could feel her body again.

“Here you go Mrs. Smith, It’s a boy!” said the doctor.

She held her baby in her arms and cried. She was a mother now. And nothing- not even the excruciating pain- mattered now. It was all worth it.

She looked lovingly at her bundle of joy. Her own blood, flesh and bone. Their eyes met.

He smiled. Just like his father did.

(PS: My first time in such a mode of writing. Need honest advice/suggestions/brickbats/rotten andaa-tamatar in comments section please :D )

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Date with a Woman

I just got this in my mail. You must have already read this or such stories like this. Very heart-warming read!


After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said I love you but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.
'What's wrong, are you well ?', she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.
'I thought that it would be pleasant to be with you,' I responded. 'Just the two of us.' She thought about it for a moment, and then said, 'I would like that very much.'

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous.
When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary.
She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.

'I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, 'she said, as she got into the car. 'They can't wait to hear about our meeting'. We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady.

After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.

'It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,' she said.
'Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor,' I responded.

During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation - nothing extraordinary, but catching up on recent events of each others life. We talked so much that we missed the movie.
As we arrived at her house later, she said, 'I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.' I agreed.
'How was your dinner date?' asked my wife when I got home. 'Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,' I answered.

A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have time to do anything for her.

Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined.
An attached note said: 'I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me.

I love you, son.'

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