Between the lines

Akash stared at the laptop screen, blinking his eyes every once a while. The paragraph didn't quite read right. He pulled back and stretched, bringing his hands over his head, yawning. This was getting nowhere. He looked around. The patio was empty, save a couple of foreign tourists hunched over their coffee cups and cigarettes slowly smouldering on the ash-trays. He stared at the door of the patio, watching the stewards walk in and out, going about their daily chores. It was off-season, or so he was told, but he wondered how these guys managed to have the same look of urgency on their faces, day in and day out. Oh well...

He closed the machine shut and got up to leave. He was about to stuff it into his sling-bag when she walked in, or rather, out into the patio and took the table on the far side near the railing. It was a beautiful sight, the scenery behind her, that is. He sat down, not knowing why he did that. This was a rather unusual face herearounds. You didn't find pretty young girls walk into a country side resort at this time of the day, alone. And she looked familiar too. She was wearing an off-white shirt and jeans, hair let loose, falling quite gracefully on her shoulders. She pulled out a book from her bag and continued to read. That's funny. He hadn't seen her before in the vicinity. Must've checked in just now. He sat down slowly, opened his laptop again, booted it, and stared at his draft, and stole a quick glance toward the girl again. "Oh, come on Akash, you didn't drive all the way here for a romantic encounter," he chided himself, shaking his head and smiling.

She threw him off-guard by suddenly staring back at him. Like a deer caught in the head lights his face flushed as he hurriedly tore his eyes off her. Oh boy. Did he see her smiling from the corners, or was it just his imagination? He didn't want to embarrass himself again. His fingers ran on the keyboard and he didn't look up for a while.

She was gone by the time he looked up again. He was both relieved and mildly surprised. What, she just sat there on the patio to read a couple of pages and leave? He quickly closed shop and rose. As he walked past the lobby to the corridor on the left that led to his room, he furtively threw glances around to catch a glimpse of her, but she wasn't there.

It was close to 8 pm when Akash wiped the lager foam off his lips and placed the mug on the bar counter. His tummy was growling and he headed to the buffet. There were three others ahead of him, and the fourth one in front of them. Her.

A while later, food plate in hand, he walked to the dining area. Almost all seats were taken. His eyes roved around and he found one empty seat, opposite her. Oh well, if it was meant to be.

"Uh, excuse me, is this seat taken?" He asked. She shook her head.

He smiled courteously and sat. She just flashed a quick 'doesn't-look-polite-if-I-don't-smile' smile and went back to her food.

They ate in silence for a few moments.

"You know, I'm curious. Is this place normally this crowded?" Akash said, hoping to start a conversation.

"Well, does it matter?” She said. “Why would you want to know that? Next thing, you’ll want to know about me. And then we’ll go our ways. How would all this matter at all?"

She continued chewing and looked straight at him, making him squirm.

Well, he started this conversation, and if it had to end, he'd better end it as gracefully as possible. He smiled, nodding his head.

"Know what? You’re right.” He then muttered an excuse and left. He didn’t bother to see her reaction. In her words, would it really matter?

He found a spot on the far side, and sat down. He watched the large LCD screen up on the wall, some news report showing in it. He thought about the girl. Was he rude? Maybe he was, but so was she. That evened it all out. He shrugged and went back to eat.

She rose after five minutes. Probably for a refill of her plate. Instead, she walked to him.

"Look, Mr. Akash, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. If I..."

He looked around and then at her. "It's ok, really" his voice a level above whisper.

"No, I really am sorry. I shouldn't have spoken like that."

He stopped eating and looked at her. She smiled apologetically. This whole thing had started on a wrong note, and he wasn't very comfortable speaking at that moment. But then she sounded genuinely sorry, and he couldn't help smiling.

"No problem. Please sit…umm"

"Deeksha."

"Deeksha. Hi." He smiled, wiping his lips with a paper napkin. That broke the ice and she relaxed.

He was done in a few moments.

"Dessert?" He pointed to the dessert counter.

"Sure."

They took the same table he'd been dining on.

"So, Mr. Akash, what..." She started, but he interrupted.

"Akash. Just...Akash."

"Oh, ok," She laughed.

"Akash, were you really curious about the crowd here?"

He dug a spoonful and slipped it into his mouth, shaking his head.

"Not really. I just was bored to death seeing old, tired foreigners. So, a person such as you was a welcome break. So..just some small talk, maybe, “ he said taking another bite.

"That was honest." She took a mouthful from her bowl, smiling at him. Her eyes were searching, he wasn't sure what.

"At least, if you meant that to be a pick-up line, I'd say it was the most honest line I've ever heard." She laughed again.

"Umm, no, I don't think that was meant to be one."

"Really, now?" The smile was with a twinkling eye now.

"Uh, huh," He replied, wiping off the last scoop.

"That was fast," she said, looking at his bowl. "Seconds?"

"No, thanks..I'm done."

*********

They sat on the patio, looking out into the darkness and up into the stars.

"A mystery writer. Hmm, that's interesting," She said. He shrugged, smiling.

"I love mysteries."

He nodded.

"So, what are you here for?" He asked, finally.

"Actually my parents and sister Akanksha are going to join me tomorrow. We're here for a cousin's wedding in the nearby town."

He wondered why they chose to stay at a resort and not at a relative's house. But then it was a small town, and sure there'd be a lot of guests. He guessed they just wanted to save the hosts some trouble. They remained silent for a while, gazing out again.

"So, why have you come a day in advance – alone?” Akash said.

“Just wanted to explore the place. Won’t be possible with your parents shouting a thousand instructions, and a sister chewing your brains, hmm?"

Akash laughed. “Right.”

“So, do you work some place?” He asked.

Deeksha nodded. “I’m in the media.”

"Wow, a journo. Television? Which channel?"

"Oh no no, am not a journalist, and neither I am from the TV media."

"Oh, print then."

"No. But Akash...let's just leave it at that, hmm?" She looked at him, searching his eyes again. He didn't know what to say, and just shrugged.

"I mean, it's not that I don't want to tell, nothing wrong with it. It's just that.."

He raised a hand quietly. "I know. I understand. Let's just leave it at that."

She relaxed.

They made small talk for a while – her sister, the Bangalore weather, traffic, cultural scene, the IT scene etc. Then she fixed her gaze at him.

"Have you published anything before? I mean...are you a full-time writer?" She pulled back a strand of hair from her forehead.

"No, actually this will be my first. The story was picked up by a publisher who ran a contest. It was for a novella, but I guess they liked it enough to want a full length book. So, they paid me an advance and.." he didn't quite know how to continue. He stopped to find words. She looked on.

"I took a break from work, and planned to complete it meanwhile. I had a lot of leave accumulated anyways. It's almost done. A matter of a few days now. It's only the first draft, not the complete book. Let's see how it goes." They both smiled. "It's a process. This is just the beginning."

Deeksha nodded. It was getting colder. They turned to walk back to the lobby.

*********

Akash sat in the lounge, and looked at his wrist. It was nearly 10 am. And there was no sign of her. They'd decided on having breakfast together. He pulled the morning's newspaper and flipped the sheets absently.

He finally rose and went to Deeksha's room. He knocked a couple of times and waited.

"Yes sir, may I help you?"

Akash turned. It was the lobby manager.

"Uh, nothing, just checking in on a friend," Akash said.

"Nobody’s taken that room yet, sir."

Akash chuckled and stepped back to read the room number again. "Really? No, there must be a mistake. 207 – yep, this is indeed it."

The manager smiled patiently. "Sir, we have it in the records. Perhaps you’d like to see?”

Akash shook his head absently. “no, it’s ok.”

“Thank you, sir.” The manager left.

Akash stood there for a moment, feeling like a total idiot. Well, this was some meet-cute situation. The cheek. He let out a deep breath and turned back to leave.

He wandered aimlessly in the hotel for an hour or so, pretending to be aimless, but actually trying to spot her. He was due to check out the next week – but what the hell, he felt like checking out that very instant. She could've at least called him. Then he realized they'd not even exchanged numbers. Then again, there wasn’t a need to. They'd decided to meet in the morning anyway. And in any case, he wasn't the kinds to rush things, so he hadn't consciously asked for her number. But this was weird.

************

Akash completed his manuscript the following week and headed back. Driving down the beautiful Ghats, his mind raced back to his trip, the resort, Deeksha, the entire thing. That day soon after she'd disappeared, he'd tried to locate a wedding hall in the town since Deeksha had mentioned about her cousin's wedding. But he learned there were no weddings scheduled that entire month. A lie, obviously. He wondered why she'd lied to him about herself. And of course, there weren’t any parents joining her at the resort. Another lie. He smiled to himself and wondered about this brief yet mysterious encounter with this girl. He decided to forget her. After all, his real goal was the book, not her. He pursed his lips and continued driving.

But by the time he drove into Bangalore, he just couldn't get her out of his system. He decided to visit all the newspaper offices just to track her down. He chuckled at his own silliness, but then nothing was silly enough for the heart, once it was set on somebody.

***********

The publisher and editor, Govind Rao, gave Akash a couple of months to come with the final draft of the book. Some changes were in order. Rewriting was a pain, but then he had decided to bring his book to the shelves, and nothing could stop him now. It was close to three months since his visit to the resort, and he hadn't tracked Deeksha yet. It disturbed him. Obviously she'd lied about her profession as well. There was no one by that name in any newspaper office, or TV station. She'd lied to him about her name also in all probabilities. And to think he was graciously stupid enough not to take down any detail from her - her email ID, her phone number, nothing. All he knew about her was, her name, and she was in the media. And there was no saying if all this information was true. And if she had just planned on checking into that resort for just 24 hours and then disappear, what was the need to lie? It was almost like she'd come to the resort with the sole purpose of meeting him and leaving him flummoxed. So much for being a mystery writer.

She'd said she was neither from the print or the television media. But what about radio? He'd not looked into that option. It was a crazy idea but then, there was no better explanation.

**********

After another week of unsolicited visits to most radio stations in town, he entered the office of the 6th radio station feeling quite like an idiot by now. But it was the writer in him that was goading him on to track her now. He'd otherwise, almost given up on her.

"Uh, I'm looking for Deeksha?" He told the security guy, who sized him up for good measure before barking a short and curt, "From?"

"Excuse me?"

"You from?"

"Oh, me.. I'm a friend." He tried sounding as convincing as possible. Yeah, if you were a pretty RJ, pretty much everyone was your friend. The uniformed bully snorted.

"Sit there," he growled at Akash, and then growled into the phone.

Akash sat there, twiddling his fingers, and looking around. The place looked bubbly, with young sound engineers and executives walking around, looking busy. Cool, he must try writing a story about these guys sometime, he noted.

She stepped out a couple of minutes later.

"Yes?"

Akash rose, now not just feeling like an idiot, but also like the jack-ass you saw on Cartoon Network when Jerry pulled a fast one on Tom. This was not Deeksha. At least it wasn't the Deeksha he met.

"Deeksha?" He cleared his throat, wondering why he was even asking the question.

"Yes? That's me?" She looked puzzled.

Akash looked at the bull-dog behind her who was now almost rising from his seat to bounce him out of the station. The puzzled expression on her face hadn't changed in the last two minutes.

"Look, err..Deeksha, I'm extremely sorry, but is there another Deeksha here, working in this station?"

He couldn't believe he was reducing himself to this.

"Another Deeksha? What do you mean? I'm sorry, I don't think I know you. Is there a problem?" She asked, all the while waving quickly at her hovering colleagues, her puzzled look slowly rubbing off on their faces as well, as they noticed him. She then bit one of her nails from a corner of her mouth. In a funny sort of way.

"I'm sorry..I..I thought. I mean, I met this girl some time back, " he chuckled. " Umm, she was Deeksha too. " Like that explained everything.

The RJ waited.

" And...I don't know anything about her, except her name, and that she worked for the media. I 've been at the TV stations, and newspapers. In vain. So....uh, I kind of hoped it was the radio." His eyes pleaded, hoping she'd buy his story and offer him an alternate solution.

She didn't reply. She looked in his eyes, almost through him, making him more uncomfortable by the minute. He looked at her hair. Wavy, and she'd dyed it like those models in the L'Oreal ads. Auburn..that's what they called the color, right? Or was it chestnut? Shit, this wasn't the time to think of hair dyes.

"This other 'Deeksha'. Didn't she tell which radio station she worked for?" Deeksha asked, rubbing her nose with her index finger.

"Look, I don't even know for sure if she works for the radio. Come to think of it, now I'm not even sure if she works for the media at all..I..." By now Akash realized there was no point taking this any further. He managed a quick apology and stumbled out of there.

As he descended the stairs of the building, his mind raced. He had to think. What more could he gather from her appearance? She did resemble 'his' Deeksha, in some ways, but...how does that help? From her talk? He raked his memory hard. Think Akash, think. Snippets of their conversation, of what they spoke at the resort ran through his head like a movie reel, whirring up the past in front of his eyes.

"Yeah, the traffic gets pretty bad by evening. But I have no problem. I stay close to work."

"...Akanksha has this nasty habit of biting her nails, it looks funny, but irritating it is..."

"...You know, once there was this guy who'd stalk her no end. No, nothing of that sort, but he would call her innumerable times, and..."

"..But sometimes it gets to me when.."

He stepped out of the building. Then it hit him hard, like a sledge-hammer. “….biting her nails…”.That was it. That was his only chance. And he just knew he had to take it.

He turned and raced up the stairs again, pushed the door of the radio station and barged in.

Bull-dog bared his fangs this time, but Akash pleaded with him to call Deeksha out one last time.

“What’s it now, mister?” Deeksha asked, not amused anymore.

"Do you have a sister called Akanksha?"

The girl’s expression changed suddenly.

"How do you know Akanksha?" She almost snapped.

Akash didn’t reply, but smiled. Which irritated her even more.

Deeksha grabbed his elbow and walked him out of the office.

“Listen, whatever your name is..”

“Akash.”

“Akash. I don’t know if this is your idea of a sick joke, but..”

He waited.

“Akanksha is no more.”

He let out a small chuckle, and also frowned. “What?”

“You heard me right. She’s dead.”

“Then I’m sure we’re talking about the wrong person. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

He turned to leave.

“Wait. Don’t you think it’s rather dumb of you say that now, after having met me? Has it occurred to you that we both know this person, and you came asking for her specifically – to me?”

Akash ran his palm through his hair and sighed. “But, you just said…”

“Yes. That’s what’s bothering me as well. How could you have met her?” Deeksha said, her face still tense.

“When did she die?”

“Two years ago.”

An involuntary whistle escaped his lips. “Do you have her picture?”

Deeksha thought for a second. “Wait.”

She browsed her cell phone, punched a few keys and turned the display towards him.

Akash looked at her, and reluctantly took the phone from her. He looked at the picture on the screen and felt breathless for a minute, the color draining from him. Deeksha waited for him to say something. Akash could feel her breath, coming in short, quick bursts. He looked at the display again and back at Deeksha, handing the phone back.

“She’s the one.”

Deeksha’s eyes filled up quickly, and she sank to the staircase, holding the rails. Akash slowly knelt down beside her and said softly, “you ok?”

Deeksha nodded and wiped her tears. She looked at him, and her eyes filled up again.

Akash slowly sat down beside her. The staircase felt cold.

“Dikku?”

They looked back. It was Meera, Deeksha’s colleague - peeping out from the door.

“Yeah,” Deeksha said, trying to mask her choked voice. She turned.

“Rocky wants you in. It’s about the …” Meera stopped when she saw Deeksha. She stepped out, closing the door gently behind her.

“Hey..whassup sweety? Why’re you crying?” Meera said.

She then looked at Akash who just smiled weakly.

“Akash, Akku’s friend.” Deeksha looked at Meera and introduced.

Akash sighed secretly and smiled again. Meera smiled back. “Hi,” she said softly.

She then turned back to Deeksha. “Why’re you crying, baby? What happened?”

“Nothing, I just..,” Deeksha cleared her throat and rose. Akash got up as well.

“Listen, I’ll just be back ok? Stay here.”

The women disappeared into the station.

********

They stood at the roof-top. It had rained, and the lights below them glistened in the wetness. Just like Deeksha’s eyes.

“This is unfair,” Deeksha said, her eyes still red.

Akash didn’t reply.

“I mean, she’s my sister, damn it. Why doesn’t she appear in front of me? We both left so many things unsaid at the time this happened. Why can’t I see her?”

Akash almost felt guilty for having stolen that privilege from her. But then, it was Akanksha who chose to be visible to him, and not her.

“Maybe she will, Deeksha. Maybe, I don’t know..maybe I have this thing of…”

“Seeing spirits?” Deeksha asked. “have you seen spirits before?”

“No.”

“See?”

“But, maybe it has manifested late in me, you know.”

“oh come on.”

The conversation was heading nowhere.

Continued here...

Touche

The food-court at the mall was abuzz with people. Vikram stood quietly, waiting for his turn when a hand squeezed his shoulder hard. He winced and turned to see a woman, her face white as a ghost.

"Sorry, sorry.." the woman muttered and pulled back her hand.

He shrugged - "It's ok"

She looked tense.

He turned back again. "are you ok, ma'am?" Maybe she wasn't keeping too well. But she didn't reply. Instead, she kept looking at the entrance, as if expecting (or not) to see some one. He looked that way as well. Nothing unusual, just a bunch of shoppers loitering around, people getting in and out of the food court. He looked at her once again and turned back - the queue was moving. He bought his supper and headed to the seating area. A while later, he saw the worried woman grab a seat on the far side. She continued looking toward the entrance. He looked that way again. Nobody suspicious. He shrugged and went back to eating.

*******

It was almost 10 pm when he walked to the parking lot. He got into his car. Checking the rear view mirror, he adjusted his seat and turned the key in the ignition lock.

Just then he felt the cold muzzle of a gun on his temple, the click of the safety lock being opened.

"Be still. And no tricks." The 'tense' woman at the food court.

He put up his hands silently.

A second person opened the back door and got in. He heard another click.

"Keep the hands on the wheel, mister. And just drive." A man, this time. The woman opened the door on her side and slid in.

"Hey, easy guys," Vikram said with just a hint of nervousness, and eased the car back.

"Don't try to do anything stupid at the toll," They reminded him.

"Ok, ok..please keep the guns away."


********


The car hurtled down the lonely state highway.

About fifty miles down, the car pulled off the road. Save for the crickets, the air was calm and dark. There wasn't any traffic. A moment later, a loud snap of bone and a cry of pain came from inside the car, followed by two quick shots.

Vikram stepped out from the driver's seat and yanked the rear door open. He pulled out the two life-less forms one after the other and dumped them by the side. Then he took a moment to answer nature's call, and got back into the car.

"Amateurs," he chuckled, bringing the car back to life. He swerved it quickly, doing a U turn, back to the city.

Damn, he was late. Oh well, his contract just got a couple more hours of life, thanks to these morons.


**********

55 word challenge (pilot)

"Aankhen chaar"

Their eyes met at the traffic signal. He smiled.

He was still smiling as his car moved. She smiled back.

The oncoming Volvo bulldozed his car, climbed it… and toppled, landing right on top of hers. Both were still smiling when cops pulled their mangled bodies out. Cops were baffled – “they were happy to die?”

******

"Line" maaro

In the movies...

Back then
Maine injection de diya hai, baaki oopar waale ki marzi (I mean, I pray that the syringe was sterilized properly)

Now
I'm sorry, hum use nahin bacha paaye (someone's gotta die in the movie, you know)

Then
‘Tumne mujhe maara?’ (Lagtha hai phir se maarna padega)

Now
"Slap" (The girl slaps back, that is)

Then
Kutthe kamine (how insulting to the dog)

Now
Abe saale *beep, beep* (don't even think about it)

Then
Purane khandahar ke peeche, paise leke aa jaana (Err, woh toota phoota sulabh shauchalay chalega? Humare shahar mein khandahar nahin hai.)

Now
Poora paisa is bank account pe transfer kar dena (Villain thanks the Internet secretly)

Then
Is bandook ke saare goli (the whole of '20' bullets in a revolver) tere andar daag doonga

Now
Bang! (That's it? He's dead?)

Then
Aise mat karo, tujhe meri kasam (what? Awww no, u uttered THE kasam word? Now I’m chained)

Now
Go to hell (Heroine sighs secretly "good riddance")

Then
Main aapko kaise yakeen dilaoon ki main hi aapka beta hoon? (birth certificate, remember?)

Now
Huh! Who cares.. (yeah seriously..who does)

Then
Ek gaana sunao beti (Lata mangeshkar ke aawaaz mein)

Now
Kitna kamaate ho, beta?

Then
Ab bahut der ho chuki hai...main..main..main maa banne waali hoon (What?? You took 3 months to realize that? Whatever happened to..err..u know..that..?)

Now
Relax. There's T-pill 72.

Then
Main tumhe hospital le jaaoonga tumhe kuch nahin hoga (With 4 bullets in him, if he’s still talking, use sachmuch kuch nahi hoga, the bullets are fake don’t worry!)

Now
Aise scenes hi rare hain yaar!

The past...blasted..

Friday, March 24, 2006

Making history...

It was a typical museum with dark, long corridors and huge halls with high ceilings. This one almost resembled the insides of a cathedral. Rohit and Seema gazed around in awe. One of the most beautiful museums they'd seen. And to think they'd get to visit one on an unlikely trek such as this. They'd been planning on the trek for quite some time now, and this museum literally waylaid them, as if it wanted them to walk in and take in the rare artefacts, before they proceeded in the hot sun. Seema smiled and clutched Rohit's palm. She was like Alice in wonderland. Rohit smiled back and sighed. This was a great place, no doubts.

The trek organizer had left them a few kilometers back at the foot of the Jogi mountain, with detailed instructions about first aid, food and other helpful tips in case they got lost. This was their first trek before they tied the knot a month hence. They just wanted to have a blast and do what they both loved doing - exploring nature.

"Funny, I thought the building looked much smaller from the outside" Rohit commented, gently running his fingers on a tiger, so realistic, he felt it would roar and bite his finger any time.

It never struck them as odd, the appearance of a museum such as this, in the middle of virtually nowhere. Even the organizer hadn't mentioned this in the route. But it didn't matter. Rohit had checked. From the window of the museum, they could see the nearby town. Well, a lot of folks preferred to drive up to a place like this; it was good tourism. Even if Rohit had any doubts it had slowly perished, after having walked around for a while now.

"This way please," The curator who'd welcomed them in flashed a typical curator smile that said, see it but don't touch it. He'd called himself Guru.

Seema rolled her eyes and exchanged a brief knowing glance with Rohit. The curator watched the lovers from the corner of his eye and smiled to himself before leading them to the room at the far end of the museum.

"And this.." He said opening a door that led to some kind of a basement, "is something you would'nt have seen anywhere in the world."

Rohit raised his eyebrows. There was a rare confidence in Guru's voice. They simply smiled and followed him downstairs.

"Wow".

"See? I told you." Guru looked around proudly, as if he'd built this place with his own hands.
Rohit had never seen anything like this before. Statuettes, caskets, jewelry, pottery, and more...indeed he'd never seen anything like this before.

"Original. From the 10th and 12th centuries. All these belonged to the Rastrakutas."

"Rastrakutas? But...how..?" Seema had read a bit of history, and knew that the valiant dynasty had indeed existed in India between 752-985 and that their contribution in the field of art and architecture was unmatched. But to openly claim that all of this belonged to them was being a little too confident.

But before she could continue to quiz him about the Rastrakutas, Guru led them to an adjoining room with massive blinds and the walls adorned huge life-size paintings of various temple and historic monuments. They would've missed it had they not stopped by to see the paintings closely. And funnily, this part of the museum was lit poorly. And the air suddenly felt as heavy as lead. Seema's throat felt dry.

"Hey, isn't that..?" Rohit stopped. Guru turned. Seema grasped Rohit's shoulder, her eyes round with bewilderment.

"That's as you can see.." Guru stepped closer.

"The Taj Mahal" Seema completed the sentence.

"Yes. Quite right, ma'am."

"Why's it in shambles? Who could've painted it this way?" She wondered aloud.

"Ah, that's the specialty of these paintings ma'am. All these paintings represent buildings that are going to perish in the near future."

"But how gross. How can somebody think about our national wonder in this way?"

"That's how it is, ma'am."

Rohit and Seema turned to Guru, who had an almost diabolic smile now, instead of his warm, friendly countenance.

They looked at the Eiffel Tower, Mount Rushmore, the Qutub-Minar, Vidhana Soudha...all in pieces. And then they came to the last painting.

"Isn't this...?"

"Yes. It is."

It was the museum they were in.

"Wh..when is this going to happen?"

"Anytime now," Guru said, as the floor beneath them began to rumble and they started shaking violently.


***********

The past...tied up this time

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Stop thief...

He heard footsteps in the hallway and froze. The street light threw a patch of white on the wall opposite the hallway. He waited. He then saw the silhouette move quickly across in the light, to the living room which was dark. He looked around for something to hold. A weapon. Quick. Anything, blunt, long, thick. He quickly unplugged the fancy table-lamp beside the door, and pulled it, clutching it hard.

He hoped the loud click wasn't loud enough to be heard. He moved to the door and stood right beside it, waiting. He didn't want any surprises. He waited a good one minute. No sound. No footsteps. What was this guy upto? He crawled through the hallway to the dark living room. There was a loud crack. Funny, the room was dark, but how did that bright star appear on the ceiling? He slumped to the floor, his head resonating with a deep hum.

*******

"Hello police station?"

A response crackled from the other end, asking him what it was.

"I want to report a burglary in my house."

Another query crackled inside the mouth-piece.

"What? No, I'm not held hostage. I knocked him out, and tied him. Yes, yes..please send someone over quick. Thank you."

********

Still in the past...

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Lost and found...

5 pm. The medical college canteen. Nishant sipped his coffee in solitude, mulling over the day; and it hadn't ended yet. He planned to head back to the hostel for a quick bite, check emails, and then back to the college. He had to collect the one book he'd been gunning for, the past month or so - Atlas of Human Anatomy.

His usual gang - Amit, Tejas, Meera, and Anushka had decided to catch a late night movie, but he wanted to have that book at any cost.

"Carry on, guys,I have some work" he'd told them, amidst sniggers and raised eye-brows.

He stepped out of the canteen, to his bike in the parking lot, when he heard a voice behind him.

"Excuse me...son."

Nishant turned. A frail looking man in his fifties. He looked familiar, but Nishant couldn't place a finger on his face. Probably one of those patients he'd to take care of in the afternoon.

"Yes?"

"Son, I'm Mohan Rao from Vijayawada...and I want to go back home."

Vijay looked around to see if the man was accompanied by care takers. He certainly looked frail, and looked quite lost.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand. You want to go home...?" He said instead, waiting for the man to complete the sentence, perhaps.

The man advanced slowly. Something was wrong with his walk. Nishant cleared his throat.

"Sir...are you with somebody? Maybe I can inform at the reception. Come with me..." He started.

"No no. I'm fine, I just... just want to go home. I'm..I'm Mohan Rao."

"Yes sir, I got that," Nishant said, slowly.

"I need your help, son."

Just then Nishant spotted Amit and Tejas walking by. They spotted him as well.

"Hey, Nishant. You sure you don't want to join us?"

Nishant looked at the pale face of Rao, and then his friends.

"Uh, sorry guys. I have to get a book."

They waved him away and continued.

"Yeah, so Mr. Rao..." Nishant turned, only to find the man gone. He looked around, his eyes searching, but couldn't spot him. Maybe he'd catch him on his way out and offer him a lift or something. Then he chuckled to himself - not all the way to Vijayawada though.

*********

Canteen, the next day. They were talking in hushed tones, when Nishant arrived, and fell silent as he neared them. He was famished. He sat down with a loud sigh. "I could eat an elephant."

He looked at the silent faces around him. "What's up, guys?"

Tejas shook his head silently, and the others toyed with their respective plates and cups.

"Did I miss anything?" Nishant smiled. "How was the movie?"

"Boring," Meera droned.

"Yeah?"

Tejas was solemn. "There was a cop here today."

"What for?" Nishant asked, placing his books on the empty chair beside him.

"He was talking to the principal, I believe...about some unclaimed body."

"Unclaimed body? Here? What, one of the cadavers?"

"Yeah, the one we'd been working on."

"Oh, shit," Nishant said. "And..?"

"The cop was saying, the body belonged to some guy from Andhra. His relatives were apparently enraged. Said they'd not signed on any paper authorizing the body to be given to the college. Apparently our Princi too didn't know how it came to us. So, there was a show-down between the relatives and the cops."

Anushka said, "Anyway, the real zonker is - the body's gone from the hospital as well."

"What? How can that be? Gone, where?"

Everybody shrugged.

"But I thought, we got bodies only after all the paperwork, right? Maybe the cops only arranged for its disappearance," Nishant said and got up as the boy behind the counter waved at him to come get his lunch.

He turned to leave but stopped. "Wait a minute. Where did you say the body was from? Andhra, huh? Uh, where in Andhra?"

Meera said "Vijayawada. Some guy called....Mohan Rao?"

Nishant wasn't hungry anymore.


******

'Back' from the...

 

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

 

Now a Frankly Spooking outtake

****************************************************************

"Are you sure you want to do this, Kishore?"

He patted her shoulder. "Trust me."

"But it looks desolate, honey. It might be spooky, for all you know." Preeti pulled her shades over her head and winced at the large, greyish two-storeyed building. It was evident that it was an abandoned structure, the tall bushes and dry leaves all over testimony to the fact.

"Yeah, but just look at the weather. It's all nice and sunny," he chuckled. "Have you ever been scared of a building on a day like this? It's all about the darkness, the rains..and of course, the background score." Now he laughed, but Preeti was not amused. She followed him inside reluctantly.

The iron gates, so archetypal of spooky stories, groaned and they walked in. No watchman, no caretaker. This building sure was nobody's favorite legacy.

"You know, it's bang in the middle of the city. I've been watching this place ever since I came here. 10 years ago. That's a long time for something to be left untouched. Not in an area like this. And whenever I passed by, I swore that one day I'd come in and snoop around. It's a childhood habit I can't help." Kishore parted the bushes with his bare hands, making way for them.

Preeti frowned, looking around. It almost looked like the set of a scary movie. Only, the crew had left it as it was, without bothering to clean up behind them. Outside, the sound of traffic reassured her that all was fine, and they could just leave whenever they wanted.

The door was obviously locked. It didn't take much for it give away, as Kishore tugged at it a few times. He smiled at Preeti, who just shrugged. They stepped into the ruins. She turned back, almost expecting the door to shut behind them...and then shook her head at her own silliness. This wasn't a scary movie after all.

"Hmm...," Kishore picked up a vase lying on the floor. It was muddy, but he could tell from the doors and other fixtures that it had been the dwelling of someone wealthy. He wondered why such a magnificent house was abandoned this way. Well, the reasons could be many. The living room was bare, but the windows were open, letting in the light. That helped. There was wild growth all around...the damp smell of earth coupled with bird droppings. A couple of sparrows fluttered around, as if annoyed with the human visit.

Thankfully,the stairs didn't creak, but the cracks showed. "Careful," Preeti whispered, but Kishore kept his head up. The first floor was different. It was darker, and the windows were shut. There were two rooms right across the landing, one on each side. The space in the middle was a corridor that led to the balcony, or sitout, he guessed.

"Let's first take the rooms."

They entered the first one. Not much different from the one below, except this one didn't have undergrowth, but still a few leaves from the ceiling hinted at the green invasion pretty soon.

Must be the peepul tree outside, Preeti thought. The room itself was pretty spacious for a bedroom. A closed wardrobe on one side...and..Kishore started moving toward it.

"Kishore, don't..." Preeti started.

"Why? You're afraid skeletons might come out?" He laughed at his own little joke and pulled at the door. It came in his hand, with a ball of dust escaping the wardrobe. he shook it off and covered his mouth.

"Did you hear it?" Preeti said.

"Hear what?"

"Shhh.."

It was coming from the other room. Like a groan. Must be a tramp, come in for shelter, thought Kishore. They stood still for a while. A sparrow flew in and out of the room. They tiptoed out and across to the second room. The door was ajar. Kishore pushed Preeti behind him and pushed it further.

Nothing. Nobody.

They looked around. Up at the ceiling. Down the rails at the living room.

"Huh." Kishore frowned.

"Kishore?"

"Hmm?"

"Chalo. Let's go..I'm not liking this."

"Arre, it wasn't coming from this house. Maybe the neighbors. And moreover, we've not yet explored the terrace."

"Whatever, I don't want to be here."

Kishore was rubbing his right shoulder.

"Are you ok?" Preeti patted him.

"Yeah..don't know why, looks like I have a muscle pull here."

"Doing what?"

"Beats me. Ok, let's go. I'll come back later some day."

They walked back to the car. Kishore was rubbing his left shoulder now.

"What, the other side paining as well?"

"Hmm, looks like. It's nothing anyway..". He started the car. Preeti looked back at the house. Her eyes roved over the walls, the building itself and then the terrace. She clutched at Kishore's hand so hard, he scowled. "Ow..what?"

"I thought somebody was watching us from the terrace."

Kishore chuckled. "yeah, probably it was him we heard."

She turned back and frowned. Did she really see somebody or was it just her imagination? Anyway, they were out and away. And that's what mattered.

******

Probably the pain, Kishore felt heavy and his walking was laboured, as they opened the gates and walked in.

"Still paining, sweety?" Preeti rubbed his shoulder. " Don't worry, a couple of pain-killers and a hot-water bag should do. I'll give you a massage as well" Preeti said, with a naughty wink, as they entered their home. They'd visited friends after their adventure and returned late. It was past nine. Kishore had as usual showed off about their snooping around. "Will take you guys there the next time."

Now, as Preeti prepared the hot-water bag, he stood at the sink and washed. As he dabbed his face, he noticed small drops of blood on the basin. He saw himself in the mirror and touched his nose. No, wasn't his nose. And he'd not cut himself. He bent down to wash his face once again, for good measure. Then he did a double take.

There in the mirror he saw a boy, not more than eight, sitting on his shoulder, smiling. Blood trickled from his mouth. Instinctively, with a gasp, Kishore tried to shake him off, but his hands just went through the boy's legs.

And then, the boy tightened his legs round Kishore's neck...smiling all along.

******

Past tens....continues

Saturday, May 28, 2005

"rain rain, don't go away..."

(Pleasant rain outside...this story just kind of sprung up in my head).


It was five in the evening and the one kilometer walk to the library was turning out to be really pleasant. It was then Gautham felt the fat drops of water fall from the sky like marbles being dropped from atop a building. He looked up, squinting his eyes and had to bring his head down the next instant. He started heading to a temporary shelter nearby, but stopped.

"Hey, let me enjoy this."

He loved the rain. It had been a long time since he got drenched. The last time was when he was a small kid, returning home from school. He'd dance and jump with glee, splash through the small puddles in the road. He was probably was the only little Johnny who wished the rain won't go away.

Now he stood on the pavement, as amused onlookers in cars and rushing bikers looked at him. He smiled back and then turned his face to the heavens, enjoying the shower, spreading his hands, trying to soak it all in. He smiled. Because he'd always wished he met the girl of his dreams on a rainy day like this. He looked up, reminding God about this small favor.

*******

He reached office and got down from the auto to pay, when the girl came running from nowhere, almost colliding with him.

"Auto bhaiyya? Basavangudi?"

She held the sides and looked at the auto guy and then at Gautham impatiently.

"Excuse me, may I...?" He pointed at his open wallet, eyebrows raised.

She rolled her eyes and stepped aside. Some cheek, Gautham thought.

He walked across to the pavement, and started up the office stairs , already planning for the day ahead, going over his presentation one more time. Goodness... the presentation CD. He'd forgotten his backpack in the autorickshaw. He ran back out, almost running over a short, stocky old man. He muttered an apology and tore past to the main road.

"Shit, I didn't even note the number of the auto." And why would he, the auto guy hadn't knocked him down. Well, the girl had, almost. He held his head, thinking fast.

Please, not on a Monday.

A hand tapped his shoulder. Anil.

"What's up, Gautham?"

"Arre, I left my bag in the auto yaar. Stupid girl, rushed him off."

"Anything important in it? I notice you normally have only your lunch box and novel in that. And why an auto today?"

"That's a long story. Now how do I locate this guy? I had my presentation CD in it. I don't even have the time to rush back home to make another copy. The Owl's gonna kill me." Owl was short for Chandramouli - his boss.

It was as good as gone, they both decided. His bag... and his promotion.

******

Later that evening, he sat at his computer, staring at the copy of the presentation. He looked up thankfully. If Owl hadn't called in sick, he would've. Saved by a rat's whiskers. He looked out the window. Dark clouds had loomed up again. He sighed at his narrow shave and nodded. His cell rang.

"Hello?" It was an unsaved number.

"Uhh..am I speaking to Gautam?"

"Yeah? Who's this?"

"I'm Neha. Did you lose a bag this morning, or someone you know who lost a bag?"

He sat up. Great. Ms. rush hour.

"Yeah, it is mine. If only you'd been a little patient this morning, I won't have left it in the auto."

He waited for a reaction. None. Maybe he should've toned down a bit. He didn't care.

"Anyway, where can I come get it?" He wondered how she got his number.

"Uh, do you know this Cafe Coffee Day outlet in Jayanagar?"

******

He arrived five minutes late. There was no sign of her. She'd insisted on telling him what she'd wear etc, but he had waved it aside. "I'll carry a red helmet. And I'll recognize you" was all he said, hoping she'd remember him too.

He paced outside impatiently for a while. And then he saw his bag. Inside the cafe. She was sitting beside it. Ah! She must've walked in from the other street. He pushed the door and walked in.

He approached her and stopped in his tracks. Hey, it wasn't her.

She stood up. "Gautham?"

"Yeah."

"Neha."

They shook hands awkwardly and sat facing each other. He smiled sheepishly. Who the hell was this girl. And now he bit his tongue for having said all that to her on the phone.

"You know, I thought..."

She smiled. "Yeah, that was Asha, my younger sister. She didn't trust the rick guy and brought your bag home instead. I saw your CD labeled 'presentation'. So I thought maybe it was important."

"Yeah, it is..but...thanks." He smiled. How did she get his number?

She read his mind. "Your business card was in the bag."

He wondered when he'd slipped his business card inside the bag. Anyway...

******

They walked out an hour later, laughing and chatting like old friends.

"Can I drop you home, Neha?" He knew now that she didn't stay very far away. It was the least he could do for the trouble she took.

"No, it's ok... I'll walk."

He looked up.

"It might rain any moment now, are you sure?"

"Precisely. I love getting wet in the rain." She smiled, looking up longingly.

"Hey, me too," he said

"Really?"

"Um hm"

"Nice"

"Ok, then let me walk you home?"

She continued smiling, puckering up her nose...unsure. "Ummm..."

"Come on," his eyes pleaded.

She smiled. "Ok."

And then it poured. They started walking slowly, oblivious to everything else.

Gautham looked up and smiled. "Thanks," he mouthed silently.


*********

Past tens....continues

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

"Gale mein khich khich..."

Nirav heard someone cough in the adjacent room. It startled him, because he was alone and his college going brother was out partying, as usual - he was sure he wouldn't return till dawn. But you never knew, sneaked in like a cat most times. Maybe it was him.

"Nikhil?"

No answer. He went to his brother's room and switched the lights on. Empty. But he was 100% sure he wasn't hearing things. He had distinctly heard a cough. He scanned the room. The windows were closed, so it couldn't be the neighbors. He felt like an idiot. He switched the lights off and went back to his room.

There had been reports of thefts in the area lately, but he knew a thief would be much smarter than to be just coughing around the house he came to burgle. He smiled and got back to his novel. Maybe it was a character of the novel, which jumped out of his brains. He chuckled to himself.

He heard the cough again.

He jumped and sat up.

He grabbed the flash light by the bedside and swiftly tip-toed to the door, his hands a little shaky. He didn't want to forewarn the intruder, whoever it was. He just sneaked to the door and looked out of the room. The silence screamed in his ears. He felt like an idiot again. He waited five minutes. Silence. He slowly stepped out of the room, and positioned himself against the wall outside Nikhil's room. The glow from the street light outside spread vaguely on the bed. Did he see something move? His hand slid on the wall to the switch board. Click. Empty again. Damn, he could've sworn someone coughed in there.

He stood there silently for a while, straining his ears. Then decided to sleep in his brother's room with the lights on.

******

The doorbell rang continuously. He got up startled, but still groggy. The clock on the wall showed half past seven. He walked to the front door. His brother barged in, shaking his head. Should he tell him about the weird incident last night? Ha! That'd be suicidal. His 'cool dude' kid brother would rib him no end. He closed the door behind him and followed him instead.

"You know what bro, I left my cell here last night," Nikhil said. "I can't believe I did that. I must've got a zillion messages." He grabbed the little instrument on the study table and started checking.

"That's funny; only two messages." Nikhil said, pushing his hair back. "Hey, did you sleep here last night?" He looked at the crumpled sheets.

Nirav opened his mouth...and a new message flashed on Nikhil's phone.

A cough.

"Cool sms tone, huh bro?" Nikhil smiled at his brother, who looked as if he'd swallowed a lot of tooth paste.


*******

Free ride

Abhilash stood under the bus shelter,shivering. The power had gone out in the neighborhood. He cursed Shiva under his breath. Son of a gun had flicked his bike in the last minute. "Dude, Sarika just loves Matt Damon, dude. Please understand".

If she was so fond of Matt Damon, why did she pick this kanjoos, he wondered. Anyway, pointless now. He huddled to a corner. He was alone. He'd tried to hitch a rickshaw an hour ago in vain. "Two hundred," the ricky had blunty asked, like it were two rupees. And he had just a fifty in his blasted wallet, and the remaining had been pulled out of his hands by Shiva, courtesy Matt Damon's lover. A second rickshaw was yet to make the grand entry. So then - bus. The paan bidi bloke a hundred meters away had signalled '10' with his hands (his mouth was full of what he sold for a living. Pan). Now Abhilash wondered whether he meant 10 minutes or hours. He didn't have the patience to walk back to confirm.

Well. He huddled some more and looked around. Nothing much to look except it was some godforsaken area. The only proof of civilization was a huge apartment complex coming up at a distance, with a few small shop-like establishments thrown in as garnish. The complex showed itself large once a while when the lightning struck. Looking at the surrounding, he wondered what lightning was going to strike the occupants, or what had already struck them in case they'd booked flats there. He was thankful for the bus shelter.

The lightning flashed again, bathing the building in white. He would've almost turned away, had he not seen something. It looked like someone had jumped from atop.

Shit. Must've been seven or eight floors up. He kept looking at the building blankly for a minute.

Then, someone sobbed behind him.


*******

B(l)ogged down by it...

I get a nagging feeling these days that blogging isn't all that gratifying for folks as it used to be, say, even 2 - 3 years ago. That said, I myself have been a victim of this 'on and off the blog' syndrome. Well, to be very honest, it's not as much the 'familiarity-breeds-contempt' thingy as most would like to admit, as it is being pre-occupied with work and other things in the real world. Which brings me to another interesting fact that emerged out of a few blogs I visited. Some of them, avid bloggers, and wonderful writers to boot... decided to bid good-bye as they felt their online and offline worlds colliding...overlapping, getting too close for comfort etc etc.. But hey, that really depends on us, right? Technology has now made it possible to appoint those online 'bouncers' outside of our blogs. Then why fret? Of course, it kind of takes the thrill out of creating something spontaneous and fun as blogging, but hey, everything comes with a price tag, huh?

But moving on from that thought, when I started blogging eight years ago (yes, you heard me right -eight), it all started with a germ of curiosity in my mind. A weblog (yes, folks - the word blog originated from 'weblog', meaning an online log book of sorts, a diary if you will) of my own sounded a little vain, but as I continued posting month after month, year after year, it grew on me and my online world grew around me. My initial posts were just those little thoughts, observations, and happenings around me. Turning to stories happened along the way, and even then - I did manage to keep the balance, until a few years ago when I actually ran out of the usual 'rant' posts and decided to just post stories.

Somewhere in between, the pace slackened, my regular co-bloggers who were also visitors, kind of faded into the virtual horizon, and things just moved on. But I know it'll happen again if I want it to. And that's the wonder of this online world - it's like a laser-light illusion one can throw up on a screen any time one wants to, and turn it off. And then turn it on again. Wonderful, isn't it? Like playing with the bedside table-lamp switch.

Social networking, according to me, is another reason why blogging isn't such a cool thing anymore. For some (or most...as you look at it), blogging could've started as a way of connecting with like-minded people. Social networking or tweeting sites help you do that at less than half the word count, and quicker also I'm guessing. So then, why not? But yes, blogging will still be dearer to folks who really want to connect in terms of content - exchanging notes so to say. For me, it's always been, and will be - to experiment with my wacky imagination in the form of my stories, and unleash on people who want to read that kind of stuff, and of course, hear from them.


PS: My online and offline world did collide once...and how!

Rain-dropped

Karthik stepped back a bit to make way for another biker. There wasn't much room left on the pavement, below the railway bridge. The rain got heavier by the second, the traffic slower by the minute due to the virtual heap of two-wheelers blocking half the underpass, and the soaked motorists none the better as vapour gushed in from all sides. The honking got louder.

Quarter to two in the afternoon, and the dark sky felt like evening. Then he saw the girl, not more than six or seven, he thought - standing away from the crowd on the far end. In fact she stood a few inches out of the shelter, looking up at the sky and quite enjoying it.

Kids, he smiled, shaking his head. She was now looking at him. He tried to wave, but couldn't get his hand out of the 'sardine can'. He shrugged and smiled. "Enjoying it?" His eyes asked her. She smiled back and looked up at the sky again. He was still smiling. He'd seen her somewhere. Where? And wasn't she with anyone? He noticed nobody tried to pull her back into the shelter. He craned his neck, searching - maybe her father or mother was short, but all he could see was a bunch of loud teens. Strange.


*********

The TV blared on about the sudden deterioration of weather, cyclone effect, trees uprooted and on and on it went, in a loop. Karthik had almost dozed off, the memories of the wet afternoon almost fading away. He looked up at the wall - oops, midnight. Still groggy, he reached for the remote and pointed it at the TV, silencing it. The day's newspaper had scattered on the floor. He picked up the sheets absently, stacking them all up in no order, on the center table.

Then his eyes went to a particular photograph on the bottom right hand side of one sheet. The obituary column. "Baby Nikita - The Lord called her sooner than expected. We miss you sweetheart." Her parents' names.

His hands trembled as he kept looking at the little girl's photo, his mind still in a daze.

A splash of water hit his face, followed by a shrill kiddy laugh. He looked up.

"I love the rain, uncle. Do you?"

********

Punaraarambh...?

Poured.

Great day to start posting again, huh? Sure, sure...

It is written...

Ravi pored over the documents, little realizing that it was way past supper time, and the last his stomach growled a warning was more than a couple of hours ago. He had to complete this report at any cost. It was supposed to be done by Rakesh, but he had not reported to work for two days. The boss had conveniently dumped it on Ravi. He leaned back from his laptop for a second and rubbed his eyes. From the corner of his eye, toward the far end on his right, he could see the small light of the office printer coming to life, accompanied by the now obvious (even anticipatory) hum of the machine, as the cartridges and rollers went to work. An involuntary smile escaped his lips. That sound was reassuring. He widened his eyes to shake off some of the blurriness of the last two hours and hunched forward again to take a final look at the report.

Then, as if someone had just knuckled on his head, he jerked, stopped reading and sat up straight. He glanced at his watch. It was close to midnight. He ran his hands over his hair in disbelief. But it wasn't the time that had jolted him up. It was the printer. He rose slowly and walked toward the longish corridor that led to the printer room.

It was evident that at least on this floor, he was the only employee working late. And he hadn't given any print commands in the last eight hours. As he neared the familiar eight by ten den, the drone of the printer, now louder, made him curious. He looked around the adjacent hall. It was dark. No one around. He slowly walked to the printer and looked at the output tray. Sheets after sheets were sliding out and arranging themselves in a stack. He continued looking. This wasn't just a railway ticket or a smallish document. His hands, now a bit unsteady, reached out to one of the sheets on top. He turned it around.


"HELP! PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

He recoiled at the letters and on reflex, threw the sheet away as if he were holding a live snake. He quickly ruffled the other sheets off the tray. The same thing.

His heart pounding away, he ran out and pushed the door of his wing open. Hurtling down the stairs, he dashed to the ground floor front office area, hoping to catch at least one security guy. To his dismay, the entire bay was deserted, though the lights were on. Damn, they must all be in the TV room, watching some dumb movie. He raced to the TV room, only to be greeted by a locked door. Panting heavily, he turned around and quickly scanned the entire front office. Silence.

He quickly climbed the stairs to his floor; which was luckily on the first floor. To hell with the report, he had to dash out now. He went to his cubicle, but all his things had disappeared - his laptop, jacket, helmet...even his new laptop lug-bag.

He returned to the printer area. There were sheets of paper all over the place, each shouting the same thing out loud in bold letters. He clutched his head and stumbled back to a wall. Then a sudden brainwave. He quickly darted to the back of the printer and switched it off. The sound died for a second, but he didn't have enough time to even sigh in relief, as the bulky machine coughed and sputtered back to life and started printing again. He slowly got to his feet and lifted the top lid of the printer to peer inside.



Sheets continued pouring out of the printer, with a small change in the text - "HELP! PLEASE GET US OUT OF HERE"


****************

"Naam (nahi) gum jaayega..."

"Hiiii, how're you, pappulo?"

That's what my 7-year old daughter said the other day, as I picked up the phone. There are some names that your parents keep. And then, there are names that your children keep, for you.
I'm sure, even 15 years down the line, I'll pick up the phone and here's what my daughter will say first thing:

"How're you, pappulo?"