May 04, 2012

Future perfect


The memory of that day, so many years ago was crystal clear. Her friends were seated at her home, nervously facing an irate middle aged man, whose traditional world they sought to upset. He was clutching a bunch of papers as though it was his arrest warrant, her college admission papers precisely. He was lecturing them on the role of women, which in those days meant stay at home mother and wives. The basic schooling was given simply because most grooms demanded it. He lectured on how, too much knowledge and independence in a woman was asking for trouble.
   She and her younger sister, whose own dreams hinged on his current reaction watched sadly...they had hoped for, but expected nothing different in their father's behaviour. Their elder sister had, had a similar battle in her time before losing it. Her older sisters had accepted their roles in a traditional society and household and gone on to marry. They spent their days doing what many other unlucky friends did...waiting on their husbands, in-laws and kids hand and foot.
   The young teenagers looked at the sad duo, as though silently saying ‘We are doing this for you two, why don't you speak up for yourselves?’  If only they knew how much his six children feared him? The grim remainder of sharp hits of the cane on tender hands and legs for every perceived act of disobedience and stinging pain effectively sealed their lips at crucial junctures. He was a loving, caring man but not to be bested...
  His lecture over, the papers tossed carelessly into the dustbin, he walked away for his evening prayers. The friends slunk off, not before giving them 'Sorry, we tried' embraces. She retrieved the forms when no one was looking and put them among her books as a keepsake till it was time to fulfil her fate.
  She tried again, a couple of years later to change the life path set up for her. This time with a job application in a telephone company and the alibi, a maternal uncle who cared for them. It was an opening specifically for high school graduates. But as before, her efforts come to naught. Her uncle was given permission, in a very rude and scathing manner,
"Go ahead, your sister's daughter after all. Recommend her for the job by all means."
 Every one was shocked to react, as he continued
"I wash my hands of her henceforth. Arrange for her marriage too, if you are so inclined. Just remember, no daughter of mine works and stays here."   
 The uncle hesitated, his sister shrinking in the corner, close to tears. With three daughters of his own, a measly salary the government job provided, a small house with far too many people to fit in, there was no way he could support her even if she was gainfully employed. Besides who was he to break up a family especially his sister's? He was gone too, the encounter humiliating enough in his opinion to not warrant future visits and with passing time, grew distant.
  Years later, when she held her daughter's hands as she took her first baby steps, she vowed that her child's life would be very different. She would be a friend, guide, and a supporter of all her children's dreams. As the front door opened and her daughter enveloped her in a huge hug, she knew she had kept her promise. A newer, positive chapter in her family history was being created....

cwc 582 need 131 words more

A memory


The quaint cafe had become my second home for a while now. Nothing much happens in this small town with people numbering few hundreds. And what does happen must pass this way. Sometimes a good thing, at other times not so nice for the individuals concerned. Everyone knows everyone else, the news travelling faster than those tweets I am now addicted to. At least when the ancient piece left behind by my cousin, whimpers to life.
"Hi, Sofia, how are you feeling today?" Dona never tires of asking me the same question.
"As good as ever."
My standard response never fails to elicit a warm smile from her and her friends, regulars who haunt the cozy corner just as often. Most ladies in the group lives by this side of the stream that divides this place into two...both parts of the town bearing distinct, diverse characters.
No longer look around for the owner's son Marco or the red haired girl to take my order. The food arrives at the table within ten minutes of my arrival, Cecelia's pastry for the day and milky tea. He personally serves my order every time, returning my smile with a sad grin of his. Savoring the food, wonder why an attractive guy like him is never seen with a girl.
I voiced my piqued interest to Aunt who doubles up as the land lady at my insistence, left me with unsatisfactory answers.
A cryptic reply, “He is waiting." leaves me irritated and a bit frustrated of late.
'This wait, for whom or what?' I ask the mirror which stares back.
 A glance at the worn watch tells me of the extended tea break. Need to buy a new one soon.
'Back to the shop then lest she explodes in her anxiety.'
 Temporarily, going through a slump in sale is our shop down the street, where we create bridal wear. The orders from the nearby towns have been steadily declining, blame the recession or in reality, the girls wanted designer ones. She is worried, this aunt of mine but pretends all is well and I do likewise. I been trying to get to her to explore other markets, maybe create our own online portfolio but she is strangely rigid and adamant. Not giving up yet, it’s time to pull in Roberto, her son who makes a decent living in Venice selling his photographs.
 Have learned not to leave a tip as I leave, it finds a way back into my pockets with a matching reprimand from Ceci. Wave my goodbyes to the other patrons, shuffle to the exit, when my attention is drawn to the two sets of red diner tables lying unoccupied. They remain empty even on those few evenings we come back here for dinner. Another puzzle that begs unraveling.
Walking down the cobbled square, think back to the conversation the other day. From the snatches overheard and persistently pestering Rob, gathered that the occupants of the tables were a group of teenagers from the village. A freak accident took away four of the lives while two girls survived. So badly traumatized by the incident, one has been in an institution ever since, the other having no memory of it. Agonize over the anguished families, being an orphan myself when the pain in the head starts. Funny it always occurs when I wonder about the girls.
Wc 565

foiled

She giggled...Neeta struggled to keep a straight face lest they draw attention to themselves.
Zack frowned, his irritation increasing with every passing minute. He could barely wait for the demo session to end.
Cathy, awaiting her turn, tried to catch their attention, her efforts only drawing puzzled looks from the twins seated behind them.
"Is something wrong with your eyes?" one asked 
When she didn’t respond “Trying to seduce my little brother, are we?"
'Little?' sizing up the boy who needed an entire bench to stretch his never ending limbs.
"That must be understatement of the century" with a quiet chuckle.
"Shut up jokers!" the other one hissed,
"I'll turn you both into bats if I get pulled up this time."
They glared at him, about to resort when she giggled again.
Zack got up in a huff only to freeze in place. Her warm hands pulling him back never failed to elicit the familiar response. Small, almost black eyes reprimanded him for breaking their contact abruptly.
Master had ignored them for a time, but was now forced to acknowledge the distraction from the eastern end of the chamber. He was aware of every thought, hushed whispers or otherwise. Faced with no other viable option,quashing the rumours that questioned his authority was a priority. The first step towards the goal demanded that they be punished.
Pity, the girls were his best friend's nieces. Reluctantly, he called the three of them over.
Zack wasn't sure he could keep himself from casting the 'bent back' hex on the girls, seeing their calm, detached expressions. He didn't want to, not her anyway. He was pleasantly surprised when Master handed them the after session chores.
Planting seeds, magical ones at that was boring but not hard.
The sulking part of him did not share in his relief. This is not we had planned. The reminder was dampener on his spirits. He had volunteered to be the telepathic medium for the girls with an ulterior motive...a desperate need to find a clue, a confirmation of her interest in him. And here they were, digging up the soil with dancing hands, where he could have been plotting his next move with the guys. He didn't find his love for the 'flying ducks' night suit funny, she obviously did.

383 cwc need 121 words more

Waiting?


 The interview had held a lot of promise, one of the better ones she had given in recent times. Nevertheless, waiting for the elusive call was unnerving. She went about the everyday chores, no longer languorous. The meals were planned especially their calorie content checked, examined her closet, deeming most of the clothes as good enough for office wear. She checked her inbox a dozen times a day. The phone went everywhere she went. At lunch, a beep. Unlocked the screen in nervous excitement. The message read, “It’s our pleasure to invite you to Exhale holiday homes, nature awaits you.”

Nectar Drops

 image courtesy Findstuff22


This heart craves for more, 
that it has been promised
having to make do with far less
the ache gets stronger
the need stays longer
the taste of ambrosia
lingers on my lips
longing for that sweet caress
to be lost in the depths
 of a tender look
that safe feeling ...
being in your arms is
like coming home again.

Image poetry Goblet

*written long ago, on one of those "rare" heady days of marriage.








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