The Times of Indore

The Times of Indore

People. They are the most beautiful thing in the world. They carry stories within them. The stories reflect our times. Yet, for me, the times of Indore were not a reflection of people. But the lack of them.

It was the most lonely I had ever been. An introvert till the eight standard, I never yearned for company. An extrovert thereafter, I could not live without it. Living alone in a new city, and not a fast happening city like Mumbai and Delhi, Indore felt like the Jaipur I had no clue about.

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29

29

It was my last day in Mumbai.

As I walked across Crosswords at Kemps Corner, it tempted me to reenter the bookstore that had introduced me to the world of Archies and Harry Potter a decade ago. However, I ended up asking the guard, “Ye 29 kidhar hai?” (Where is 29?)

29 is a restaurant at Kemps Corner where I had invited my friends for my farewell lunch. Without a clue about the theme of the place I was heading to, I followed the guidelines of the guard and found a fine dining air-conditioned restaurant, contrary to my expectations. I had expected it to be a rather average restaurant after looking at the price for two on Zomato. Continue reading “29”

The Twinkle in Her Eyes

The Twinkle in Her Eyes

The tea almost spilled out of the ivory cup. Her face looked relieved after the first sip – but her hands trembled. She aimed at the saucer and slammed the cup on the inner circle of the saucer, sporting a smug half-smile to celebrate yet another `achievement’. As I cringed at the clink, she ordered, “Finish your milk before it turns cold.” I nodded and dragged the glass of milk closer, choosing not to explain that I had asked the cook for a cold coffee just a couple of minutes ago. Obviously, she hadn’t heard that.

Because she couldn’t.

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I vs Me

I vs Me

“My mother is a jewelry designer,” I said.

Fr. Jose Philip, Principal of St. Xavier’s School, Jaipur, stared at me, pleasantly surprised by a six-year old pronouncing two long English words so confidently. That was the highlight of the first interview of my life that led to my admission in school.

Over the years, I always enjoyed answering the question, “What does your dad do?”, I got upset when the question wasn’t followed by “And your mom?”

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And He Did Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night…!

“It`s good that he is no more. Death is better than so much of suffering.” As much as I would love to agree with this, it seems nothing more than a self defense mechanism to me. How on earth (literally) would I know if he is still not suffering, in some other world maybe. The human race has not yet emerged with a conclusive research on life after death. And those who have given it a shot, have not returned so far.

So I would refuse to console myself on the basis of baseless statements like these. Just because I am not a witness to the suffering does not put a ‘dead end’ to the suffering. What I do know for a fact is that death is inevitable. To embrace it is wisdom. But to defy it is courage. And that is what he was – a fine blend of both. And that is where I draw my strength from. Continue reading “And He Did Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night…!”