Tag Archives: Teenage

Growing up

(This story contains sexually explicit contents and something that might be considered as social taboo. Please do not read if you don’t like such contents or if you’re underage)

thigh

 

Girls grow up pretty fast. They just do. It’s a matter of few days, a sweet plump teenage girl all of a sudden become a head turner, out of nowhere.

I was leaning on the wall of my terrace, I could see Mimi was there in her terrace to fetch the dry clothes. It was the month of May, a stormy month. I guess she saw the cloudy sky and windy afternoon as soon as she got up from her afternoon nap. Her eyes were still sleepy and her face was puffy, I guess she was alone at her place else her mom or maid would have been up on the terrace picking the dry clothes in hurry. My terrace is close to hers, just a distance of a short jump.

I went back in time while idly gazing at her. I still remember the day she was born, I was around 12 then. My mom told me our new neighbor who moved in last year got a kid, that the neighbor aunt delivered a baby girl today morning.

I went to see it, the baby, with my family. I saw a small piece of flesh with eyes, nose and ears. I wondered if it’s really even a human being, like one of us, I saw babies earlier but not this small.

Time passed by, that new born turned 2 in no time. It started to crawl around, treating my study table as her personal toilet, wetting my books, shitting on my table and tearing my notes. I wondered how to deal with it.

And the time went by, she turned 7, an irritating, nagging, running nose kid always clinging to me, demanding to take her to ice cream parlor and getting her chocolates. I cursed her, I cursed myself, I cursed the universe.

She stepped into her teens, she was 13 maybe. She was playing in a corner of my house when she came running to me, crying. There was a stream of blood flowing out, dripping off from her slender fair legs, her skirt was covering till her knee. I was the first man witnessing her in her first period. I called her mom and asked her to take care of her.

She was entering into her 16 when everything about her started to change. She was becoming moody, rebellious, unreasonable and beautiful. Once I saw her standing in the corner of the lane with her bicycle, she was in her school uniform, talking to a guy, perhaps from another school. They were talking, giggling and she was looking so happy. They saw me, I looked at her and then walked away.

That night I heard her fighting with her mom, screaming and shouting, I wondered what it might be. Next morning she was on my doorstep, with moist red eyes, accusing me of spying on her, telling on her. I tried to reason with her, that I never said a word. She didn’t listen to me and ran away cursing me that I shouldn’t find love, I don’t deserve that.

We started to grow apart, maybe she knew I never told on her, maybe she didn’t. She walked passed her 17th birthday. The little girl turned into a cute young lady in no time, I felt I witnessed a metamorphosis, from a caterpillar to a butterfly.

And then something brought me into the present. The sky was till cloudy, the wind was blowing hard now. I saw Mimi tripped, while trying to balance her as she had all dry clothes in her hands, on her shoulder. She fell down on the terrace, the hard uneven concrete surface peeled the skin of her knees and legs, the dry clothes were scattered, few were flown away, few were swarming on the terrace with the wind.

I couldn’t help but jumped to her terrace, held her and picked her up. She looked distraught, maybe because of the pain, maybe cause she couldn’t stop those clothes to fly away, maybe she just felt ashamed that she tripped right in front me in that fashion.

I pulled her up, maybe she was hurt but could walk, maybe she couldn’t. But I picked her like a cute doll in my arms, walked down from the terrace.

Her both knees were bleeding, so was her ankles. I took her to bathroom, cleaned her up and put her onto the sofa. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, not that I cared much. I was looking for Neosporin powder and some cottons, she showed me.

I held her legs and starched towards me, as she was sitting in the sofa she kept her legs on my thighs. I sprayed the powder and rolled the bandages around them and then I looked at her.

Her skirt was above the knee, her fair and smooth thighs were glowing with water drops on them, where the thighs met each other, I could see a blue triangle. She was wearing a blue undergarment, nothing fancy, actually a normal one that covered her womanhood.

I got up and told her to go lay down in bed. She looked at me and said she won’t be able to walk till the bedroom. And I picked her up again in my arms, for the second time.

As I placed her in her bed, her bosoms were occasionally brushing against my shoulder. I was holding her too close to me, I could see right into her eyes, It was questioning me, it was questioning herself. Our lips met for a fraction of second and parted.

I pushed myself back and walked out of her bedroom, walked passed the hall to the main door. And then like a possessed man walked straight back to her. She was lying down there already, she was surprised seeing me back. We broke into a long kiss and then it felt so normal as we got rid of our clothes.

Her breasts were small, tender and fair, nipples were yet to change to dark brown but they were pink, small and perky. As I looked down, I saw her navel, not so deep, not so shallow, I caressed it. As I ventured into her most forbidden part, she blushed, pushed me aside and closed her thighs. Guess that’s always instinctive for females.

As she parted her legs after few strokes of hand, I went down on her, to eat her, to bite her, to make her moan and scream. She pulled me up, held her in arms, her eyes pleaded me to pierce her, to stab her, to go deep inside her.

She was soft, she was tight, she was warm, and she was a virgin. She was in pain but she was willing, her clenched jaw, closed eyes and sweaty forehead were telling her painful yet pleasurable happenstance.

I felt like a ragging mad bull, I looked at her. The girl I saw her in the first day of her life, the girl who crawled around me, the girl who played on my lap and the girl I saw in her first day of mensuration, I closed my eyes and I can hear her giggling back in time. I was thrusting myself into her as hard as I could, and I could recall every day I saw her growing up in front of me. I should feel guilty, I should have felt shamed. All I felt was her, and only her.

I stayed lying there, I could see her sleeping. Her face is carrying the impression of pain and ache, the bandages have come off and there’s blood on the bedsheet, some from her old wound, some from her fresh one. I kissed her forehead when I heard Mimi’s mom calling her name from the main gate. I looked her, and asked myself “should I leave or should I stay?”

 

 

 

 

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Befuddled

Haunted Hut

 

(The story is narrated in first person, the protagonist may or may not be a real person, writer can not confirm that. The story is partly truth and partly fiction. But the truth and fiction can not be separated as they are lost in translation. Apologies in advance if that’s inconvenient or disturbing.)

I am walking aimlessly, clear blue sky above, the sun already sets down, the light of dusk is slowly dying, yet its visible around. I am walking on the grass, on the long and lush green grasses of the field, they are bowing down with winds towards north. I am trying to remember where I am, how I came here, I seem to have no memory of it, I am just walking and walking and all I can see around is trees and the green field meeting the sky at horizon at every direction.

And now I can see something ahead of me, it looks like an old hut, a broken, wrecked hut in the middle of the nowhere. I am advancing towards it while touching the long grasses with my both hands. Wait! There is something more, there’s a dog sitting right in front of the hut. As I came near to it, it got up on its feet, unusually black in color and it has only one eye, where the other eye supposed to be has a dark hole as if someone or something gouged out that eye.

It on its four legs and started to bark, as if it doesn’t want me to advance any further. I was little confused about the whole thing and then…. I saw it. A tall, lean figure emerged from the hut, and immediately a horrible smell of rotten meat hit me, the thing was wearing a gray and ash color long gown, its feet weren’t visible but it looked like floating little above from the ground. It was holding a long stick on it’s right hand and….. where the face supposed be, it was just a piece of yellowish flesh, no eyes, no ears, no nose or mouth.

The one eyed dog is barking madly. Though that human-like figure has no eyes, I can sense that it can see me, it started to move slowly towards my direction and hold out the stick towards me. My throat is dry, I want to run, but my feet are stuck to ground, the horrible smell is getting stronger and all my senses are slowly getting blurred and blocked. It has come near to me and almost touching me.

 “All is the fear and nothing is the love; As little is the wisdom, where the flight So runs against all reason” I remember the lines of Shakespeare.

I was sitting on my bed wide awake breathing heavily; my heart was thumping so hard that I could hear it. This was one of the worst nightmares I have ever experienced. I almost ran to kitchen and drank a half jug of water, the thirst was just not quenching and I was sweating profoundly. I started to feel dizzy in my head; I slowly sat on the floor, kept my head on the wall and slept or fell unconscious.

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

I am sitting on the hospital bench for more than ½ an hour’s now. I came to this government hospital which is about 2 km away from my place. There is always a stark difference between private hospitals and nursing homes and government ones. Private hospitals are neat and clean, smiling receptionists and caring nurses around, doctors are available on call in different departments. Government hospitals are all about chaos, patients lay down on iron cots with filthy bed sheets, some are even laying on the floor, nurses are busy and irritated, hardly doctors are around, compounders are giving proxies for them, smell of phenail and other kinds. You actually can smell the fear, pain, agony and even death in here.

I approached towards one the nurses, “Sister, I am waiting for a while now. May I see a doctor?”

She looked at me with an irritated face, “Don’t you see there’s no physician available now, what’s the case? Why you’re here?

“I am sick, I need some medical attention, I have seen ghost last night and got up with high fever, I need a bed to lie down.” I answered in a feeble voice.

“Do you think it’s a place to crack stupid jokes? Or are you trying to get a bed here by telling some cock and bull story.” The voice came from behind.

I turned back, there was lady standing in white apron, a pale face with a pair of curious eyes, angry curled lips with hair tied behind. Don’t know why I felt she doesn’t belong here, though she was not wearing any makeup, I visualized her wearing black eyeliner with heavy eyelashes, with cherry pink lipstick and a little touch of makeup on her cheeks, wearing a red banarasi saree and smiling at me. She is not meant to be a doctor; she is meant to be poetry of a poet.

I straightened my back and changed my voice to a heavy one, “That’s right ma’am, I was just telling a story, actually I am the PA of the state health minister, came here to investigate the situations of this hospital. I am under the direct order of health ministry; there are so many complaints against this one.”

I felt the sense of urgency in all the hospital staff members, the nurse I was talking to a while ago, stood up, she was looking visibly scared. Only the lady doctor was unmoved, she shrunk her forehead lines and was about to ask something suspiciously. But right before that my head spun like the whole world got upside down and it got dark in front of eyes and I fell down on the floor, unconscious, for the second time.

As Shakespeare said, “The miserable have no other medicine, but only hope.”

 

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

As I gained my senses, I saw the face of her looking at me curiously, “Are you feeling ok now?” Her concerned voice sounded so sweet to me.

I found myself on the hospital bed, same iron cot with smelly bed sheet but still comfortable, I closed my eyes again, I am not sure how everyone else took my little drama just before I fainted. “How long I was out?” I asked

“About a day now. Do you always lie and create dramas whenever you go? This is a hospital not stage of drama.” She smiled and spoke in a light tone.

“Well,“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts.” I smiled back.

“You had fever and high blood pressure when you fell down; it was caused by some high stress or may be by elevated fear. I remember you are speaking of some ghost when you came in here.” She spoke again, with her sweet voice.

“You don’t fit in here; you don’t belong amongst all these diseases, pain and death. You belong in a heavily guarded high castle, attended and protected by the knight in shining armor.” As I spoke the words looking at her eyes, I could clearly see her face expression changing. She looked annoyed and irritated.

“Why you guys always have to be so clumsy and corny around females? I am just your doctor and you are my patient. I did not expect such cheap behavior, you looked like a well behaved, mild mannered gentleman, apparently I was wrong.” Saying so she stormed out of there.

After sometime a nurse came to inform me that I will be discharged by tomorrow afternoon. I passed my time chitchatting with the other inmates, various kind of people. The bed next to me is allotted to lady patient who has stomach cancer, last stage. She got 2 small kids, her husband does all kinds of petty works to make ends meet. Hardly got any money for her treatment, morning he comes to leave the children with their mother and comes back in the evening to get them home.

Met the janitor or hospital floor manager, he is not only janitor but a free advisor for all the hospital patients and their relatives, mostly how to get cheap treatment, he knows all the addresses godmen and so-called Ayurveda and herbs specialist self-appointed doctors in and out of the city.

So I asked him, “Do you know somebody who can cure cancer?”, “Of course I do”, he replied back with utmost confident. “There is a guy called Pagla baba (mad baba) he can cure anything.”

“How does he do that?”, I was curious. “Oh, you just have to take the patient to him and he will touch the patient and he/she will be alright in half a day.” The janitor replied enthusiastically.

“Oh, so did you try telling her husband about your Pagla baba?” I asked sarcastically.

“She can’t be cured; her time is up. We already took her to him. He said her time is already up. Pagla baba doesn’t help everybody, he even meets few people, sometimes don’t even meet anyone for days.” Janitor sadly shook his head.

I pulled my blanket on me and closed my eyes. This country is neck deep into superstition and no wonder all frauds and humbugs are taking advantages of it.

I murmured the lines from Hamlet “Thus conscience does make cowards of us all”

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

“May I come in?” I hold the curtain of the cabin door and asked.

“Yes.” She replied. I am going to get discharged today it’s only my moral duty to bid adieu from the doctor who brought me back to health.

I sat in front of her, she was searching something in drawer, “Not here to apologise I guess.” She spoke without lifting her head.

“I came here to thank you.” I spoke in my sweetest possible voice. “That’s alright.” She replied, again without looking at me.

“And I am here to tell you the story how did I saw a ghost, got scared, fell sick and landed up here. If you have time of course, Dr. Aditi Majumdar.”

She frowned and leaned back on chair and then she laughed, “I see you know my name, I guess from the staff, ya sure, go ahead tell me your story in brief. I am not sure if I’ll believe you. By the way, here’s your purse and mobile phone, check if everything is alright, we thought of calling your parents or relatives but we couldn’t unlock your phone. We came to know your name from the credit card.”

“Much appreciated, I live alone in this city so it’s alright. If you don’t mind, could you order a cup of tea? It would be nice telling you the story with a hot smoky cup of tea.” I replied.

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

At school I had a friend named Ashfaq, he was a tall lean fellow, soft spoken, nice and little timid. He considered me as his best friend as I once stood up against his bullies. Since then he always looked up to me as his friend in need. His sister Ruksar also studied in the same school, two standards below us. To her I was her another brother from a different mother.

Frankly, I considered Ashfaq a good friend, not of my best buddies, I had a different group. But Ashfaq always used consider me his friend, philosopher and guide, even on trivial matters he used to ask for my help and suggestions.

We’re in 11th standard, it was during the summer vacation, Ashfaq’s ancestral village was some 150km away, a remote one, it had population of hardly 700 to 800 people, Ashfaq’s dad Moideen uncle was the wealthiest and they had their own estate.

There was a place there which was considered haunted. A small hut away from the locality, it had a story. A fakir used to live there, an honest and god-fearing, they say one day Iblis (Satan or Devil) himself paid a visit and turned him into his slave. He started to kill the villagers to offer sacrifices. After few days intimated villagers attacked him and beat him to death. They left his dead body inside the hut and since then no one ever went back. Few who by mistake went nearby paid with their lives.

When Ashfaq told me the story I laughed, I could only laugh at the imaginations of illiterate villagers. Then I told him to go and pay a visit there and crush the very superstition hold his village to ransom.

He looked perplexed and scared, but nonetheless he told me he will try. After 3 days he called me at my home in the evening. “I have decided to go there, but I am little scared. Wish you were here; we both could visit that place.” He spoke in a hesitant tone. He was calling from his village.

Don’t know why and how I felt angry about it, I yelled at him over the phone “I can’t watch your back all the time Ashfaq, you need to stop being a coward. Either you go there and prove there’s no ghost or don’t show your face to me, ever.” I rammed down the receiver.

After two days the news came, villagers found Ashfaq’s body on the field, near the hut. He died of heart failure, when they found his body his eyes were wide open with an expression of intense fear on his face.

We all friends were present in his last ritual, his mother was sobbing, his dad was sitting there with a blank expression. Only Ruksar was standing in a corner, with dried tears, with immense hate in her eyes, staring at me. I did not know the reason. That’s the last time I ever saw her as I never went back to his house again. After coming back home, I took out my diary and wrote down one of my favourite quote, that was the only entry I made in my diary that day.

“Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, it seems to me most strange that men should fear;

Seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.” ― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

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“That’s a sad story.” Aditi shook her head. “But that has to do with your situation?”

“Last night I had a nightmare, that I am walking on a field filled long grasses and then I came across an old hut with a black one eyed dog sitting in front of it. Then a strange tall figure appeared, without a face, almost floating above the ground. And I woke up in my bed, shivering and sweating.” I replied calmly.

“It was just a nightmare, how you can say it’s anything ghostly or super natural?” Aditi frowned

“Have you ever experienced any dream or nightmare with a smell? Horrible smell of something rotten, smell of decomposed flesh?” I asked, indifferently.

“What are you going to do now?” She leaned on the desk with a curious look.

“I am going to Ashfaq’s ancestral village, to pay a visit to that place, although I don’t know if it’s still there, but something is telling me, it’s still there.” I stood up, she was still looking at me with puzzled eyes, I couldn’t but recite few lines from ‘Hamlet’s To be, or not to be’

“For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there’s the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.”

 

I walked out of her cabin slowly, leaving her behind, befuddled.

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I went back home and spent sleepless nights for next two days. Every time I closed my eyes my subconscious mind kept telling me not to fall asleep, as then I might have the same nightmare again. Part of me wanted to fall asleep, and part of me kept awake. My slumbering half-conscious self was loitering around the world of dreams and reality.

Suddenly I heard a voice.

“Do you really want to go there?” Ashfaq was standing a few feet away. The same 17 years old kid in the school uniform.

“Yes, I want to.” I replied. Though I know I might be imagining or hallucinating.

“Why? After all these years.” The calm voice of Ashfaq asked me again.

“I don’t know. But I must go, to set myself free.” I closed my eyes already, my mind was blank.

“Set yourself free? From what?”

I did not reply but with all my might I pushed myself out of bed. There was no one in my room. I pulled my easy chair to the balcony and fell on it, murmuring few lines of Henry IV by Shakespeare.

‘O sleep! O gentle sleep!

Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,

That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down

And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,

Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,

Than in the perfum’d chambers of the great,

Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull’d with sound of sweetest melody?’

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

After 3 days I went back to the hospital. Dr Aditi Majumdar was not there, Instead I found the janitor, he was overjoyed seeing me and invited me for a tea to the roadside tea shop next to hospital.

Ashit (Janitor): How are you sir? You look so pale and tired. Did you sleep well?

Me: No, I haven’t slept a wink (Smiled sadly)

Ashit: What happened sir?

Me: I see ghosts. When I am asleep and when I am awake.

Ashit: Sir, I know you educated people don’t believe in all these, but I must request you to go see Pagla baba.

 

By his tone of urgency, I was certain he gets his commission from Pagla baba for making people go visit to him and pay his fees. Nonetheless, I decided to visit him. I have seen many godmen but never was too impressed by anyone. I smiled at Ashit and started to walk while recalling the lines..

‘There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.

But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,

Make gallant show and promise of their mettle. – Julius Caesar’

 

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

I am sitting in front of Pagla baba now. It’s been almost 10 minutes that Pagla baba is at his laughing spree. Today morning I came at his den, which is 25 km away from the city. Frankly speaking I was disappointed when I saw this place. No much crowd of disciples and visitors, hardly 5 to 10 people are scattered outside a torn tent. One of them told me to wait and disappeared inside the tent, reappeared in 2 minutes and announced my arrival to baba.

My disappointment increased as I entered and saw an old man in his 60’s was sitting there, he is so lean and feeble that anyone can count his ribs, he is wearing a spectacle with one leg, the other leg was missing a replaced by a thread. As he looked at me started to laugh I could see few teeth were missing as well.

I patiently waited for 10 minutes and then asked him, “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know, I feel kinda funny.” The intensity of his laugh increased, now even his whole body is shaking. ‘He really is mad’, I thought.

“Of course I am; why do you think they call me Pagla baba?” I was completely stumped now, baba actually read my mind.

“Do you know why I am here?” I asked in a serious tone.

“You are looking for the cure of your nightmares.” Baba was still laughing.

I let out a long sigh, so Ashit, the janitor has spilled all the info to his baba, I thought.

Pagla baba stop laughing, “No, Ashit did not tell me anything.” He spoke with a smile.

Now I was certain somehow Pagla baba knows the art of thought reading, I heard of similar kind of power exist among humans. And why not, how ant’s movements start before rain? How dogs and other animals can anticipate earth quakes and other natural calamities? Even we humans have something call sixth sense and some people have it to an aggregative length.

“So do I get the cure?” I asked, in an unsure tone.

“Go back home today, meet me after 3 days.” Baba is calm now

I got up and turned back when I heard him again, “You forgot my fees.”

I turned back to him, “How much?”

“Six hundred and fifty-three.” He smiled.

I opened my pursue, I had the exact same amount. I handed it over and asked him, “Do you always charge as much some has in his pocket?”

“Not to everyone. But yes, you must pay, you must pay your debt.” Pagla baba started to laugh hysterically again. I bid him goodbye and hit the road.

‘He that dies pays all debts. – The Tempest by William Shakespeare’

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

As I walked into my office, I headed straight to the cabin of my General Manager.

The GM looked at me and exclaimed. “What happened to you? you look like a complete mess, are you alright?

“I would like to resign.” I replied with a crisp voice and with a straight face.”

GM looked completely at sea, “What? Why?”

“I am starting a journey to somewhere and I have a strong feeling I won’t come back alive. I guess if I resign now you’ll have enough time to recruit someone.”

GM had a long and hard look at me. “is it another trick of yours to ask for a vacation?”

I smiled, kind of smile which could mean yes or no or both.

“I am giving you 15 days of leave on medical ground, I heard you were hospitalized, you don’t look too good either. Go see a doctor and get well soon.” He spoke in a harsh tone and looked down on the papers he is holding. I turned back and was about to leave.

“Listen.” GM spoke again, “Here’s the visiting card of a renowned physiatrist, he knows me, go see him once if you can.”

I took the card and left home thinking few lines of ‘King Lear’.

‘O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!

I would not be mad.

Keep me in temper. I would not be mad.’

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As I was wandering around the city, my car stopped near a café, as I rolled down the window my eyes glued to a young couple sitting there, they were chatting, laughing and having a good time, while talking their heads were hitting each other and parting with another laugh, one happy couple who dares the world to be careless about.

It was Aditi and another young man, I felt a sharp tingling sensation of jealousy. I parked the car nearby and walked into the café, straight up to Aditi.

“Hey”, I greeted her,

“Oh hi”, Aditi replied with a surprised cheerful tone.

“After that day you never met me, never even called me, what did I do to deserve such? Did your feelings subside for me? In spoke in an artificial hurtful and complaining tone.

Aditi’s surprised eyes turned red into anger in few moments. The guy next to her also looked quite perplexed but nonetheless he decided to take the matter in his own hands

“Hi this is Vikalp, and you are?” he asked

“Aditi’s boyfriend.” I extended my right hand at him. He couldn’t shake it but spilled his cold coffee all over.

“Who is he?” The guy almost screamed at Aditi.

“A patient of mine.” Aditi munched her words in despicable anger and then pushed me in a corner.

“What is the meaning of all these?” Aditi hissed while holding a part of shirt.

“Who is he?” I asked in a smiling tone.

“He is my boyfriend. What are you even doing here?” Aditi hissed again.

“Really? That nincompoop?” My voice was filled bitter sarcasm.

She left my shirt and stepped back, “You have no rights to speak such about him, I demand you to leave now.” This time she spoke calmly.

“Aditi, come here.” The impatient tone from her behind was Vikalp’s

I grinned, “Why not let us put your love into a test, just ignore him and come with me, let’s go for a drive. “

“I don’t have time for your drama or games. Good bye.” She went back to her table and I started to walk back to my car. On my way I saw Aditi and Vikalp was throwing hands in the air and arguing over. I grinned again, did I just sow a seed of doubt between them?

‘Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt — William Shakespeare.’

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As I was about to sip into my morning tea, I heard my doorbell ringing without pause, “Someone is up real early, it’s 10 am.” I thought.

As I open the door a plain looking man in his mid-thirties was standing in front of me. “You have to come with me, right now.” The stranger spoke in an authoritative voice.

“Sure let’s go.” I put down my cup and about to start, in my pyjamas.

The stranger looked a little puzzled. “Like this?” he asked.

“You said right now.” I replied.

“And you don’t want to know who am I and where you’re going?” His surprised voice annoyed me.

“That you were supposed to tell me, but you don’t I won’t compel.” I answered.

“Let’s go.” As we came down I saw SUV is waiting down below with ‘Police’ written on it. I looked back at the stranger and he flashed his ID, “Piyush Arora, from crime branch.”

“Oh”, I exclaimed and stepped inside the vehicle.

After 30 mins the SUV stopped in front of a huge 3 stored house, this time I was surprised as I thought we were on the way to police station.

Inspector Piyush held me by my shoulder and almost dragged me in. On my way I managed to read the nameplate, Mohan Majumdar, DIG, Crime.

Inside there was a man in his fifties sitting on a sofa, wearing white kurta and pajama, he looked at both of us.

“Got him Sir.” Piyush Arora spoke in a such enthusiastic tone that even I started feel special about myself, after all crime branch it is, which was looking for me.

DIG crime looked at his inspector and tell him to get out with hand gesture.

“How do you know my daughter?” He asked in a cold voice as the inspector left.

I never actually had misfortune to meet any top cop, Mohan Majumdar was a short, half bald and very fair man, with a round face, just like Aditi.

“So you spy on your daughter?” I took my seat in front of him, on the opposite single sofa seat.

“Answer the question before I turn your bones into white powder.” DIG was fuming.

“talcum or cocaine?” I yawned

“Shut up. And answer me.” Mohan Majumdar roared.

“You shut up. You don’t know how close I am to our local MLA. You want to get into trouble?”

I roared back. In reality I don’t even the name of the MLA of my locality nor any other. But it’s like rule, you want to intimidate somebody, tell them about someone they fear. Like to common people it’s cops or goons, for cops its politicians, to politicians about votes and elections, etc etc.

As DIG Mohan Majumdar was looking at me suspiciously I continued.

“I know you have two daughters, the elder one went against your wish and chose a guy. Since then you are over protective about your younger daughter, spying on her when she’s out of home and she hates it. You don’t even like her current boyfriend, Vikalp or whatever his name is.”

I stopped as I could see him completely perplexed by now. I saw the photo frame on the table in a corner, Aditi with another girl, no doubt she looks older and alike her. I beat around the bush and I guessed I got few of them right on. No daughter like her father spying on her, especially on her private life.

I started to walk leaving him behind. “There will be eyes on you.” Mohan Majumdar barked. I thoroughly ignored him.

As I was walking though the hall to the main door I saw Aditi was coming down, she saw me stopped on the stairs, her face looked puffy and eyes swollen, dried tears on her cheeks carrying the evidence that she might fell asleep crying.

“Lovers quarrel.” I chuckled. She frowned and about to say something when I stopped her. “I was called upon, by your dad.”

“Why?” her disgusted tone hit me hard.

“To break you up from Vikalp and take you away.” A cruel smile waved up on my lips. I walked out slowly, do I even know what I am doing?

“Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.”― William Shakespeare, Macbeth.

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

I got up from my good morning sleep next day hearing my doorbell ringing madly. As I opened the door I found Aditi Majumdar standing at my door step.

“Congratulation, you just turned my life into a living hell.”, She spoke with fire in her eyes and bitterest tone.

“Did I?” I was yawning and scratching my neck.

“I just want to know why are you doing all these, that day after you left I had the nastiest fight with Vikalp and then yesterday with my dad. Why did you lie to me? What exactly you want?” she had tears in her eyes.

“I am going to Pagla baba today, he told me to meet him after 3 days. Why don’t you come along, he might solve your problems too.” I yawned while speaking.

Aditi had a long and hard look at me for few seconds then she slapped me on my face so hard that sleepy eyes said good bye to my sleep.

I stepped off from the door as she stepped in while slapping, “Come on in, have some coffee.” And I closed the door behind her.

Aditi at her wit’s end now accepted the weird incidents happening around her and calmly came sat on the dining table. I pointed at the kitchen, “Water is on the oven and the coffee powder and milk are there, help yourself. Give me 10 minutes and we will be on our way to solve our problems.” I smiled.

 

As we were sitting in front of Pagla baba he already gave me a brown thread tied around my upper arm. “Where you’re going you will face grave danger; this might help you.” Pagla baba indicated at the thread, today he isn’t laughing instead he is calm and quiet.

Aditi was sitting there, befuddled. She didn’t know what to do. I looked at Pagla baba and grinned, “So this thing cost me 600 odd, not much of a worth ain’t it? By the way this is Dr. Aditi Majumdar and she too has great many issues which she thinks are caused by me.”

“They will go away, soon.” The old man smiled.

As we walked out of Pagla Baba’s hut I saw a dog sitting on the yard, a black dog, with one eye, sticking its tongue out and breathing heavily.

“Just like the one in your nightmares, isn’t it?” Pagla baba started to laugh hysterically again. “Start today, tonight is the new moon, I could warn you not to go but I know you won’t listen.

Aditi hold my hand pressed it so hard. “Can I come with you?” She asked in a scared tone.

‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. – Hamlet, Shakespere.’

 

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

And I am walking again, on these lash green grasses, just like I have seen it in my dream, in my nightmare, the only difference is Aditi is also walking beside me. This field wasn’t very hard to find, even today people don’t come this way much, villagers directed us in the right direction.

It’s only green and blue can be seen, the sun is on its way to bid goodbye and the dying lights making it look like a dreamland.

And I remember,

‘Two months after the death of Ashfaq, Ruksar called me, to visit her at their place. When I went there I found Ashfaq’s parents are away. Ruksar took me to the terrace.

“I heard your conversation with my brother that day. He was so scared to go there alone.”

I shrugged. Ruksar continued.

“My brother told me you people had a pact, you were supposed to be there with him in our village, you both were supposed to go there to unravel whatever you thought was unreal. But you did not keet your promise, and you pushed my brother to the edge.

He did not want to go, but he was too afraid to be called a coward, he was too desperate not lose his friendship with you. But you never cared. I begged Ashfaq not to go, yet he went, he couldn’t see his only friend turning his back at him.

I loved you both as my own brothers, but you had a different feeling for me. I knew it and now I know you aren’t worth it. But at least you will feel guilty of this.’

She stopped and took a deep breath, suddenly I spotted that she’s at the very edge of the terrace, before I could react she just let herself fall. No scream of pain but just a thud sound.

I stood there motionlessly and then walked out of that house slowly, there was no one in the street at 2 pm afternoon to spot a 17 years old boy walking off hurriedly. The city knew that evening, a grieving sister committed suicide.’

 

 

“Where is that brown thread?” Aditi asked suddenly as the old wrecked hut slowly started to emerge in front of us.

“I tore it and threw it somewhere here in these grasses.” I replied calmly.

 

Aditi looked at me with scared eyes and disbelieve, and then she ran towards the opposite direction.

The smell is getting stronger, the smell of rotten flesh. I could see the nameless, faceless figure is slowly emerging from the hut, with the big stick it’s holding. My vision and other senses are getting blurred, I am losing my power to even think.

“I FOUND IT!!” I heard Aditi screaming, as I turned my head I saw her running towards me, what I could see is she’s holding something in her right hand, something brown.

I looked back at that thing, floating and coming towards me, and I could see a black spot behind it, slowly getting bigger and bigger as if something is running towards me. I heard that black spot barking madly.

 

I knelt down and screamed, “I am sorry Ashfaq, I am sorry Ruksar. I am sorry.” And tears started to roll off from my eyes.

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A love story?

20110923223913_281_43_ghibli-1997-12_The Ocean Waves

 

[This is an old story I wrote back in 2010 and posted in a different blog. Unfortunately that blog site is not available anymore, hence posting it in my primary blog. It was an initial attempt of mine to write. Let me know how you like it through your comments and take the poll]

 

(Disclaimer: Some parts of this story has adult and sexual contents. Hence Readers/Viewers Discretion Is Advised. Please do not venture in if don’t like so or you are underaged)

 

When a boy and a girl are friends, I mean when they are quite close friends, that friendship is really complicated. Now this is an ingredient of an eternal discussion and argument whether a boy and a girl can really be friends or there is something calls ‘love’ always pop in.

 

 

I can always add some fuel in this fire by saying that; I don’t really believe that a boy and a girl can be friends in true sense. And I know, a hell lot of people won’t be agreeing with me. Trust me; I cannot prove them wrong or even right. So I m here to tell you a story, or shall I call it an incident? Cause it really happened in my life. Now I am not at all a good writer or a real good story teller, so proceed at your ‘own risk’.

 

 

Back in days, when I was a school boy. It was the year 1999, then I was in 11th was a pretty normal 16 years old boy, with all kinds of boyish attitude and desires and hobbies. I think that’s the age when we actually start thinking like a guy, I mean that strictly about chasing girls, saving pocket money and buying cards for the pretty girls in the class, school or in couching classes.

As we all know, true guys love only 2 things, ‘sports and girls’, and as Indians, we like mostly cricket as sports and a little bit of football.

 

I was always among those unlucky chaps who are always the second best in their life; no matter how hard we try we cannot simply be as good as the best lot or can say we are always the layer below the cream. I was not bad in studies, but my batch in the school (my school is quite a reputed one in my place) was a bunch of little geniuses. I mean we (I meant my batch) still hold the record of capturing 8 top places out of 10 in school finals.

So I and the other people like me in the class always been overshadowed by this bunch brilliant pupils. Same in sports, from my class, there were 5 guys who were in the ‘under 17’ state cricket team and there were no doubt that, they will make it to the ‘under 19’ team as well. At that time practically cricket was the only sport existing in my school.

 

 

It was pretty much us or you can say ‘me’ at that time, that is, of course in school. In my colony I was famous as a no nonsense guy and a no nonsense ‘gully cricket team captain’ who was very keen about his team’s reputation. In my house I was regarded as an innocent guy who loves sports and knows nothing about skirt chasing. I was the youngest among my cousin brothers, and my brothers had already earned their names as brawl experts and womanizers (though I have doubts about using this word here, as we all are actually boys and we were only behind girls, no women. Still they were quite good at flirting and wooing girls). So I was mostly been termed as the only good son in the family who listens to his parents and uncles and aunts and don’t do ‘bad things’. Oh! Forgot to say, I was born and brought up in a joint family.

 

 

So in our colony cricket team, who’s I was the proud Captain, we had a special player. A left hand batter, left arm spinner, so a good all-rounder to have. I was also an all-rounder and loved to think myself as lance clusener, the South African all-rounder, he was a rising star then. Now having a left hander in your gully cricket team is like being a blind sultan having a one eyed wajir (Minister) in the land of blinds.

 

So ‘she’ was an important and valuable player in my team. YES!!! She was a girl. Arpita Sinha, that was her name and she was a true tomboy. Hardly ever saw her wear anything else then jeans and t shirt and a blue cap. Her BSA street-cat cycle, on which she hardly used to sit and paddle, always standing on the paddle and cycling. Participating and getting cuts and bruises in street racing was regular to her. She was quite a competitor when we guys used to brag about how many times we got our arm fractured or the number of injury marks on our knees and elbows.

 

Though she was a total tomboy, she was a good looking girl. I mean nobody ever mistook her as a guy in the group of guys. She got short hair, till her shoulder, and she got this real mischievous eyes and a double left canine tooth. I mean it was kind of wisdom tooth over her left canine tooth, and when she used to smile, boy! It used to make her smile look so cute. Once a while she used to get a these romeos following her from other colonies, but they used to give up too soon after knowing her properly.

The only thing used to irritate me like hell was, people calling me her boyfriend or asking her if I am her boyfriend. This matter went much worse when one of my teammate Dhritiman pointed his finger at me saying I am being unfair to him because of my girl friend and mocked me. This was just too much to take. I caught him by his collar and punched his face, and threw him out of the team. I was almost the crowned prince in my team. My dad, as he was a cricket player in his days, so I never had to ask him or beg him to get me the sports stuff. I always had extra bats for others, bowls and stumps and even for the trophies of the final matches I used spend all my pocket money. So no one in my team really confronted me about sending him out of the team or blamed me for being biased. But after the incident

 

I could always feel a strange step motherly treatment by my team mates to Arpita. Even she felt that and was kind of depressed about it, but I always supported her. She was grateful to me because of this and we actually became close friends after this incident.

In school, my dream girl, my fairy princess was Ekta. Ekta was one of the most beautiful and sexy girl of my school that time, she was in the same batch with me but in different section. Ekta, Bhaswati, Anindita and Preeta, they were the bandaged shoulders angels. Why bandaged shoulders? Well there is a little history behind it. Once we guys were ogling at them in canteen, suddenly Bhaskar sighed and said to me, ‘dude, I feel like these girls are like those poor cursed angels whose wings were ripped off and been sentenced here in earth as their punishment, they are so beautiful, they cannot be human’. Soham chipped in saying, ‘dude, let’s check their shoulders, if someone ripped their wings, they will sure have bandages on their shoulder’. We had a great laugh and from then we started calling them bandaged shoulder angels.

That time my heart used to beat only for my angel Ekta. I was ready to do all kinds of crazy stuff for her, starting from climbing to her balcony and proposing her with a rose, to write a letter with my own blood, etc etc. but just all other love stories, mine also turned to be one tragic one.

I always used to try and start a conversation with her. It mostly started with ‘hi’, ‘hello’ and ended with, ‘oh! So you have done your homework’ or ‘give me the notes of that subject if you have’. It was never easy to talk to her in school because she was almost always been surround by her friends and of course by our class and school hunks (I meant those stupid seniors of 12th, ohh!! How much I used to hate them that time). After school it was almost impossible to talk to her, unless someone really follow her till her house to catch up with her there (I did that too, though I found that her parents were not really very pleasant people).

Dear readers, you have to remember that, this is the story of those days when facebook and orkut hadn’t seen the daylight, email and chat was just been evolved and we kids have only heard about them. Mobile was those fancy items we used to see in our dad’s hand, even to touch it we needed his permission. Landlines were not really that convenient, as back then you hardly can have any private talk with any of your friend or even girl friend. Moms were always around us listening to each of our words and commenting on them appropriately. I really feel today’s school kids are lucky.

So all we guys had to do was to chose our coaching classes wisely, I mean those teachers and classes to whom our angels were going to. We just had to convince our parents to send us in those picked coaching classes. So I found out the teachers Ekta was going to and I joined in there. But here also the story was pretty much the same like school. A few flowers and bunch of honeybees buzzing around them. Ekta wasn’t the only pretty girl there I meant.

Ok, now let’s get back to the old track. I was then enjoying a very nice and special bond of friendship with Arpita. I mean, we were really good friends then, just like I was to all my good guy friends. We used share everything, used to wander around the city on our cycles, eat out and freak out together. We used to talk about everything, well almost everything, of course except my new found passion, ‘Masturbation’ and my limitless dirty fantasies about Hollywood actresses. One of the big topic of our chat was Ekta, she always used to say that, ‘Buddy, wish I could help you in this, but I’m illiterate when it’s about lovesutra’.

 

She never had any kind of feelings for any boy and also not about any girl (guess that explains that she was not a dyke). But our little friendship was not really accepted so easily by a few people. A few guy friends of mine, a few girl friends of her and ‘Smita aunty’, Arpita’s mother. They were dead against this friendship. I cannot blame Smita aunty for that. Poor aunty had to bear lots of taunts and twisted remarks by her ‘not so kindly neighbors’ because of her daughter being such a tomboy. So every time I used to go to Arpita’s place to call her for the match or something else, it was always Smita aunty who used to answer first. She used to come out to the main gate with one hand resting on her waist, “Don’t you people have anything better to do haan? Always playing and freaking around? In few days you will have your exams starting, do you remember that?” But aunty could never stop Arpita coming and playing with us. Because she had full support from her dad, for her dad she was his daughter and his son. Salil uncle, Arpita’s dad was fond of me, so aunty was never been a problem for us.

 

 

Then came the year Y2K, with the Y2K bug and then with the march of 2000. A painful month in the history of my life. The higher secondary exam was postponed till May. We were just finished with the Test exam and the 11th hour preparation of ‘the big exam’ was going on. Cricket, romance, wandering around, jerking off; everything came to a halt that time. Though a part of my mind was plotting a strategy of a daredevil mission. Mission ‘ask out Ekta on the last day of the exam’. All of a sudden one day Bhaskar and Shuvankar came to my place to drop the ‘FAT MAN’ and the ‘LITTLE BOY’ on my life. FAT MAN = Rahul asked Ekta officially to become his girl friend. LITTLE BOY = Ekta accepted. “That bastard asked out my angel before the bloody exam and my sweetheart betrayed me. I mean who asks out a girl before 3 moths of higher secondary exam, and “Ekta, won’t it be a big distraction for you? How could you say yes?”. ‘What could be more tragic? Now I can’t even challenge Rahul for a dual. “If I get a black eye or bruised lips or any sign of a brawl on my body, and mom finds out, I’m just dead. Now for revenge also I have to wait for 3 more months. Life is just so unfair”, I was thinking. I instantly developed a lifelong hatred and rage against all the people named Rahul in this world, including all those Rahuls who are been played by Shahrukh khan in his movies. “I hate Rahul, I HATE RAHUL! I will kill him, burn him, drill him, peel him.” That was all I was thinking about at that time.

 

I was angry, frustrated, upset and depressed. I needed to talk to someone about it. Talking to guys about this won’t do any good as I had an idea what might be their reaction, I saw Bhaskar and Shuvankar was laughing and falling on each other when I was cursing Rahul. I did not have any other close female friends except Arpita to discuss this. But I had a fair doubt in my mind about her reaction as she was no less than any guy in her attitude. Nonetheless I decided to tell her about this as she was the best friend of mine. So I called her landline. “Hello aunt…… err…” to my surprise, It was Arpita who picked up the call, now this was new. Every time, I mean those few times I ever called Arpita’s house, it was always aunty who used to pick up the phone. Arpita understood my astonishment and explained that her mom and dad is out to visit the ‘Durga temple’ with her just arrived relatives from another state and they will be back only in the evening. I told her I want to meet her, it’s urgent. She called me her home, as today that was the best place to meet with no Smita aunty to boss around.

 

 

I took my bicycle, barked at mom saying I am going to my friend’s place to study and started for her house.

 

This March and April is the time for the summer storms. We always had a few big storms coming at this time. I got caught by one of them midway. While cursing the storm my cycle fell on a ditch and bumped. It created few inches of vertical gap in the air between my bottom and the seat for a few seconds, and then I landed on the rod that joins the bicycle handle and its seat. I and my cycle embraced each other and I fell right on my face on the ground. Though my elbows saved my ‘handsome face’, which is definitely more handsome than Rahul, the skins of my both elbows were neatly peeled off.’ ‘More curses to god Zeus and also my newborn arch enemy Rahul’.

 

 

Somehow I pushed the bicycle and reached to her place and hit the calling bell. She opened the door and almost screamed seeing me. I was all covered with mud and blood. She almost dragged me in and pushed me in the bathroom and then got me some cotton and anti septic lotion. In half an hour I kind of recovered from the trauma of the cycle accident and then broke the ‘flash news of the day’, to her. She took it lightly, did not really laugh at it but advised me to forget her and get myself a new angel. I was in no mood of accepting any advice about giving up on Ekta. I was actually a little hurt and angry the way she reacted. I told her that. She playfully told me if I want she will bash Ekta up for what she did while I can take on Rahul. I was upset, so I kind of got agitated with her behavior. I pushed her on the bed and blamed her and the entire female community to be cheaters and back stabbers. I playfully threatened her that I will rape her here as no one is around and have my vengeance upon the girls. She got up with mock anger in her eyes and started hitting me. Though we were just kidding, as she hit my elbows I started bleeding again. It was paining so I screamed and asked her to stop. She turned a deaf ear to it and kept on hitting me saying she will teach me a nice lesson for trying to rape her.

To save myself from her, I ran towards the staircases which go to the terrace. She followed me, and caught me in the terrace. It was raining then, the storm was calmed. Little did I know, that another storm was waiting right in the corner which was about to make my life upside down.

I kept pleading her to stop, but she did not. Then I showed her how I was bleeding. She stopped then; we were already drenched in the rain, so we did not bother for a shelter, we sat right there. She was checking my injuries and then I saw it, ‘she was crying’!!! I was perplexed and shook her by shoulder, asked her why she is crying. She looked at me with teary eyes and said she did not want to hurt me but by mistake she scratched my injuries. Now I was completely puzzled and did not how to tackle the situation. I mean when we guys fight playfully, if we hurt our friend unintentionally, a simple sorry or ‘sorry sorry sorry’ always do. We seldom cry when we get hurt badly, ‘like got kicked in the balls’. But we don’t cry if we kick someone else’s balls.

 

So I gave her a tight hug and told her it’s alright, I am not feeling the pain at all, which was of course a big lie. While wraping my arms around her I was cursing the day, today it was real bad, first Ekta, then the storm and the accident and now this. And then, it happened. Accidentally our lips brushed against each other.

Well I know what you people thinking; I can read your mind. You people are now rolling your eyes and I can hear your sigh. Another bogus Indian romantic film story, this guy has nothing better to do so he is writing one crappy mushy mushy love story just as we see them every day in movies and television soap operas.

Now let me take you back to the story. I must warn you, ‘adult contains ahead’.

I was already in an awkward position holding my best friend in my arms while she was weeping and now I smooched her also, perfecto!! I was expecting a sudden push from her or the worst, a tight slap on my right cheek, she was lefty remember?

Instead, what she did I never expected. She hugged me tighter keeping her head on my shoulder and I was sweating while getting wet in the rain. Her soft and puffy breasts were rubbing against my chest and her nipples were hard, they were poking me! I am sure we were just feeling the same thing what Adam and eve felt after eating the apple. Our bodies were right on fire, could feel the adrenaline rush in each and every vain of ours. This time I kissed her, a real kiss. Her lips were under the command of mine; my tongue was exploring each and every corner of her mouth.

 

I cupped her breasts with my hands and started fondling those soft fleshy things, my thumbs was constantly rubbing her nipples while sucking her lips hard and was biting them occasionally. She was wearing a t-shirt and a ¾ jeans. In no time her grey and white t shirt got rid of her body; gosh!! she was wearing this sky-blue colored bra which was looking transparent after drenched in the rain. My hands were working overtime to unhook that bra, but I tell you guys, it’s no easy task to accomplish. At last her hands came forward to help to make those bosoms free from that piece of cloth.

 

I was speechless, dumbfounded, I was clean bowled by my own teammate. Two cute orange like bulges were looking at me with pink nipples and were inviting me suck them up. Well that’s just what I did. My hands were now busy undoing the button of her jeans and she was holding my hand, resisting. I did not stop. In few minutes we both were nude, without even a thread on our body right under the blue sky and drizzling rain. I hardly remember what we did, rather what I did after that. I was feeling like my body temperature rose to a level where a thermometer would have burst. All I can recall I was kissing her right there between her thighs and the next moment I was inside her. We both were shivering in each other’s arms. It seemed like we both are in a dream world of love, lust and ecstasy, literally in the seventh heaven. When we finally finished, we were lying side by side on the terrace for about an hour. I did not know how to react. A sweet, innocent and deflowered girl was lying beside me weeping. Perhaps I should have feel guilty at that time but all that I felt, was love, pure love.

 

 

We came down from terrace and I started for home, it was still raining, raining heavily. I was walking with my bicycle and her cute face which floating right before my eyes, it was getting hazy with the raindrops. I couldn’t gather enough courage to go and meet her after that day or even call her, neither did she. I got quite busy in next two month with my exams, entrance exams and all. Once the exam got over I went to her house with a greeting card which says ‘sorry’ and with another one which says ‘I LOVE HER’.

 

As usual Smita aunty came out, saw me and made a disgusting face. “Arpi went to her grandpa’s place for summer holidays, she won’t come back before a month”, saying this she turned and disappeared inside. I waited for whole month June. My gully team got dissolved because most of the guys were leaving the town to join their colleges. Rahul and Ekta already have been declared as a happy couple and they also got admission in the same college somewhere in Delhi. My friends, most of them were happy as most of them got their desired streams and colleges. Someone told me Arpita was going to Pune as she got her seat there. I called her home a few times, once she picked up but hung up as soon as she heard my voice, mostly aunty used to pick up the call and her answer was always “She is not at home”. I could clearly say that she was lying. She left for Pune after few days and from that day I never met her again or see her till date.

 

 

Sometimes when I sit back and think about her, I always ask myself, what have I lost? My best friend or my love? Or it’s both? I don’t know the answer. What do you think?

 

(I shall not disclose if this is a story of a pure fiction or a true occurrence, rather I would like the readers to comment what they feel about it.)

 

——————————————————-X————————————————–

 

Merry Christmas

merry_christmas_2013-HD

Part 1: https://anibhoot.wordpress.com/2015/11/29/homework/

Part 2: https://anibhoot.wordpress.com/2015/12/15/punishment/

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

As bittu entered into the staff room, Firoz was standing there holding bittu’s note, enraged and fumed. He waved the page in front of bittu’s face which has the lipstick mark on it.

Firoz : “So Bittu, tell me why do you come to school? For this huh? Mr Casanova. Are your parents Mr and Mrs Sinha are aware of all these or I have to personally tell them?”

Bittu (In a dumbfound voice): “I… I don’t know anything about this. Please don’t tell mom and dad anything, please”

Firoz: “Stop being a skirt chaser or you’ll regret it, badly.” Firoz chucked the note on Bittu’s face and snarled “Now GET OUT!”

 

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

Bittu was standing in front of the cash counter as he was making payment to the old lady

The Lady in the counter: “Ahh, you have bought such a nice dress for your sister. But you’re sure it will fit her? I mean you could brought her along.”

Bittu: “Amm, this is not for my sister, actually for one of my, err… friend.”

The Lady in the counter (Making a face): “Hmm! So even school kids like you are having girlfriends and boyfriends, huh, don’t where this generation is heading to? Now here, the dress is packed. “

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

Mr Sinha (While taking a sip from his tea cup) : So bittu, you got the new cricket bat?

Bittu: “Ye…. Yes dad”

Mrs Sinha: Where’s it? Show me.

Bittu: “I… I kept it in the school store room, tomorrow is the match so I thought….”

Mrs Sinha: “Come on Bittu, such an expensive new bat and you kept it there? What if someone flicks it?”

Bittu (Smiling): “Don’t worry mom, it will be safe

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Bittu: “Neeraj, can I borrow your bat for tomorrow? For the boxing day match between teachers and students”

Neeraj(Bittu’s friend): “Why? Didn’t you get a big cash from your dad for buying one?”

Bittu:”Amm, I spent it somewhere else.”

Neeraj: “I know where you spent it. On her, don’t you? Fine you can have the bat. But you borrowed 500 bucks from me?

Bittu: I’ll give it back next month.

Neeraj: “Yeah but this time you have to give me 1000.

Bittu: “Why?”

Neeraj(With a mischievous smile): “I too have my own expenses.”

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Christie: “It’s for me? Why?”

Bittu: “Christmas gift.”

Christie: “Hmm, ok bye, mom’s calling me.”

Bittu: “Christie….?”

Christie: “What?”

Bittu(Sighed): ”Nothing.”

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Bittu: “Sir, did you call my home? Asking for me?

Firoz(At Firoz’s house): “Ya, Neeraj told me you wanted to his borrow his bat for tomorrow’s match.”

Bittu: “ Aaaa….mmmm, Yess!!”

Firoz: “I played with this in my college days, now there’s no much use of it to me anyway. It’s yours.” He was holding his old elegant cricket bat.

Bittu: “But sir…….”

Firoz: “Bittu, this mid-term I want you to get A+ in Chemistry. Now take this and GET OUT.”

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Christie: “First ball, clean bowled. Do you even know how to hold a bat?”

Bittu: “Raman sir was bowling, it was a low full toss, I was thinking whether to hit for a four or a six, then there was something distracted me. As I felt and breathe a strange sweet fragrance and I saw someone there on long off, dress in red. I stood there and closed my eyes, the ball took off my middle stump.”

Christie: “Idiot, I thought I would wear it in Christmas, not a day before, but you…..”

Bittu: More than half of my team are yet to bat. Could we go get some ice creams and sit under that tree?

Christie (Smile and tears): “Merry Christmas ‘My Santa Claus’.”

Bittu: “Merry Christmas Christie”

 

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Punishment

Corporal-Punishment-in-Moroccan-Schools.-Photo-by-the-Hindu-Photo-Library

 

https://anibhoot.wordpress.com/2015/11/29/homework/

 

–     “Why are you making face at me?”

—   “My wish, did you see your face in the mirror? Go see.

–     “Hmm.”

—   “You sound like a baboon when you say hmm. Go wash your face, its reddish like a baboon’ butt”

–     “Ok.”

(After a while)

–     “Damn, my front tyre is flat”

—   “I know, I did that.”

–     “Why?”

—   “My wish, walk with me, there’s a cycle repair shop next to my house,   fix it there.”

(Walking together)

—    “Why you didn’t say anything to him?”

–    “Whom?”

—      “Whose ten fingers are printed on your cheeks, you idiot.”

–    “Don’t call me idiot.”

—      “I’ll call you whatever I want, you monkey”

–      “Fine, but at least don’t make faces at me.”

—       “Shut up, ok we’ve reached, see that’s cycle repair shop, now wait here.”

(After 5 mins)

—     “Here, your notes, go and fix your tyre now.”

–   “Amm, Actually, I…….. Wanted to tell you something.”

—     “Say.”

–      “I……. I like you… So much!”

—       “So? Go home. Bye.”

 

Bittu stood there for a while like a nincompoop as Christi made a weird face at him one more and quickly disappeared through the front door. He shook his head in disappointment and slowly pushed his cycle towards the repair shop.

 

(Next day)

Firoz sir was checking the homework submitted by his students in the staff room, he gave extra homework to Bittu for delay in submission. As he was turning the pages of the notes, his eyes stuck at the last page. It’s the impression of a pair of lips, as if someone applied orange lipstick and kissed that part of the page, below that it’s written “For You” with a feminine hand writing.

A volcano erupted inside Firoz’s head and his eyes turned blood red. He calmly turned to the office peon and said “Call Bittu.”