The Street of Stories

On a bustling evening on Church Street in Bangalore, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted from nearby cafes and the cacophony of street vendors filled the air, there stood a modest bookseller named Anand. His stall, though small, was a treasure trove of literature from around the world, offering everything from classic novels to contemporary bestsellers. Anand, a bespectacled man in his late forties with a warm smile, was a true bibliophile.

One fine day, a middle-aged man named Arjun approached Anand's stall. Arjun was the quintessential middle-class Indian, dressed in crisp shirt and well-worn trousers. He had a knack for negotiation and was known in the area for his shrewd bargaining skills. As he began to browse Anand's collection, his eyes fell upon a beautifully bound leather edition of "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

"How much for this?" Arjun asked, his voice measured.

Anand, who had been running his book stall for years, replied with a friendly tone, "Ah, 'The Great Gatsby,' a classic choice, sir. This edition is a special one, and I usually sell it for 600 rupees. However, for someone who appreciates fine literature like yourself, I can offer it for 500 rupees."

Arjun raised an eyebrow, examining the book closely. "500 rupees, you say? That is a bit steep for a book, isn't it?"

Anand knew he had to tread carefully with Arjun's style of negotiation. "Sir, this edition is leather-bound, and it's in excellent condition. Plus, consider the literary value it holds. It's a collector's item."

Arjun remained unfazed. "I'm willing to pay 350 rupees for it, no more."

Anand, maintaining his composure, smiled. "I appreciate your offer, sir, but you're truly getting a steal at 500 rupees. How about we compromise at 450 rupees?"

Arjun hesitated; his eyes still fixed on the book. He knew Anand's reputation for quality and genuine love for books. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright, 450 rupees it is. But I hope you'll throw in a bookmark as well."

Anand chuckled and retrieved a bookmark with a famous literary quote from his display. "Of course, sir. Here is a bookmark with a quote from 'The Great Gatsby' itself."

As Arjun counted out the bills and handed them to Anand, a sense of satisfaction filled the air. The transaction was not just about buying a book; it was a connection between two people who shared a deep love for literature. Anand watched as Arjun walked away, clutching the precious leather-bound edition of "The Great Gatsby."

As the evening sun bathed Church Street in golden light, Anand could not help but smile. Another book had found its way into the hands of someone who would treasure it, thanks to the age-old dance of negotiation and the appreciation of literature. In the heart of Bangalore, Church Street continued to be a place where stories unfolded, where books brought people together, and where the magic of literature lived on. 

Abhi Na Jao Chhod Kar!

My eyes open to the blinding lights entering from the parted pink & green floral curtains. Sun rays hit the white linen of your side of the bed. Empty. Cold.

Your pillow stares back at me with a frosty look, incomplete without your messy bed head decorated diligently on it.

For a millisecond there, I thought I actually saw you — your sleepy face, a haircut long overdue.

I'm broken out of the psychedelic trance by the ringing doorbell, your abandoned bed, it's the milkman at the door. Why was I hoping it'd be you?

"Abhi na jao chhod kar,"

Two long years of making coffee with extra cream & sugar. Three long years of knotting your tie as we fussed over a decent breakfast of eggs and toast.
Two long years of you giving me the last bite of your toast.
Apparently, it was enough for you. For me? My longings tell me otherwise.

"Ke dil abhi bhara nahi,"

Sometimes, the situation perplexes me. You said that it wasn't working and that we would move on, that it wasn't a very long time. Well, I guess time is a relative concept because you got that wrong. It was a long time for me, boo.
It took three months to fall in love with you, two years to love you, and it's been seven weeks since you left.
And right now, it feels like I'll be over us only two decades from now. I don't know.

What I know is that it'll only take me 3 seconds to spring to my feet and come running to open the door for you. Why am I still hoping for that? I don't know if it's the pills I take to make me sleep as my tears dry or just my messed-up brain. I guess 'hope' can be both a good thing and a bad thing. I'll just have to wait and see.

"Abhi na jao chhod kar,
Ke dil abhi bhara nahi."

Balancing Rage and Calm

 

In the intricate world of emotions, women often find themselves walking a tightrope between rage and calmness. The struggle to express authentic feelings while adhering to societal expectations can be particularly challenging. Exploring this emotional balancing act and why simplicity remains elusive for many women.

Emotions are like a rollercoaster, and for women, this ride often includes a blend of rage and calmness. These conflicting feelings can be confusing, as societal norms have historically expected women to be primarily calm and composed. The pressure to conform can make it difficult for women to express their true emotional states.

Society has long prescribed how women should behave and feel. The traditional image of a serene and composed woman has been ingrained in cultural expectations. This societal pressure often forces women to suppress their anger, leading to an internal struggle between what is expected and what is felt.

In a world that often oversimplifies emotions, women find themselves grappling with the complexity of their feelings. The expectation to maintain an outward calmness clashes with the internal turmoil of unexpressed rage. This struggle for simplicity becomes a daily challenge as women seek to reconcile their genuine emotions with societal norms.

Despite the obstacles, many women are forging their path toward emotional balance. Breaking free from outdated expectations, they are embracing both their rage and calmness. This journey involves acknowledging and accepting the duality of emotions, and fostering an environment where women can express themselves authentically.

The emotional journey for women is an ongoing exploration of navigating the delicate balance between rage and calmness. As societal norms evolve, there is a growing recognition of the need to embrace the complexity of emotions. In supporting women on this journey, we contribute to creating a world where authenticity is valued, and the pursuit of simplicity becomes a shared endeavor.

 

LIKHE JO KHAT TUJHE WOH TERI YAAD MEIN!

  

The A4 sheets of words I wrote to you lie in the farthest corner of my bookshelf, hidden from the light. Those neatly folded letters, gingerly enveloped in soft pastels, peek from the minuscule gap between the dictionary and my favourite coffee mug-modified-pen stand, both into my eyes and into my soul.

You pulled me out from living on a chessboard to riding over rainbows, made my world "seven more colours" colourful.

Jab raat aayi toh, sitaare ban gaye,'

And I probably will. Soon. Until then, I'll let my pen control both me & my emotions.

'Likhe jo khat tujhe, woh teri yaad mein,'

It's hard to admit that this scribbling which began as a way to fill in your absence, to embrace your reminiscence, became a habit sooner than expected, in fact, almost unexpectedly.

'Hazaaron rang ke nazaare ban gaye,'

It's been a heaven of a ride with you and no, I'm not using the wrong phrase. It's been nothing less than wonderful.

'Savera jab hua, toh phool ban gaye,

Writing, to you, my love made my days lovelier and my nights a little less lonely. I talk to the stars & the wind, which surprisingly makes more sense than writing unsent letters to you.

The yellow corners of the envelopes tell me that maybe, just maybe, it's time to let go. The letters inside, definitely yellower, tell me to move on.

'Likhe jo khat tujhe…'

Back Home

 

Going back to Mumbai always brings a lot of mixed emotions like excitement but also a little worry about what it will give me this time. It’s a crazy, crazy city, with crazy people but it is also my home where my people and my family live. Every time I go back it feels like coming home and exploring a new city at the same time.

May was a good time to go home. The weather starting to get hot but not really that bad. The flight back home made me so happy, and excited to see my family and suddenly all the tiredness of academics and work was fading as the destination was coming near.  Looking out the window, I saw clouds and blue sky. It was so much different from the busy city I was leaving behind. Serene.

When I finally got off the plane, Mumbai’s hot air hugged me and welcomed me home. It hit me right away. The Mumbai Airport as usual crowded just like how I expected it to be still it made me happy. I felt good to be back in the city where I grew up.

I immediately booked a cab. The drive home was short but because of classic Mumbai traffic, it felt like a lifetime. I noticed so many changes in the city. New metro lines, New graffities, New buildings…beautifying the city even more. I also saw new shops and a lot of new people in my neighborhood. Mumbai for me was like an old friend with a brand-new makeover.

As I pulled up to my house felt peaceful after a long time. It smelled the same and everything was just like what I remembered leaving, only this time my cute little Bruno had grown so huge that I could not even lift him... Bruno is my cute little pet doggo. Everything was as it is. It made me cry, Joyful tears.

Spending time with my family was the best part. My mother made all kinds of dishes that she learned when I was not back home, cute isn’t it? My father brought all kinds of sweet dishes I love and miss in Bangalore, father’s classic behavior of showing their love towards the child. My brother played me his terrible songs on his guitar, he thought he was the best, couldn’t even say no to him. But it felt that I was home, and made me realize how badly I missed this all back there.

I went to world-famous beaches a few times. Growing up in Mumbai made me fall in love with the sea. Sitting on the beach for hours and hours just listening to the sound of waves calms you down and makes you forget the chaos of the city. The sand every time is hot, and the sea is perfect always! It is equivalent to therapy, trust me! I felt lucky that I got a chance to grow up and live near the ocean.

I also explored new parts of the city. Interesting, isn’t it? The city where you have lived all your life is showing you its new sides.  I found some cool cafes and bookshops and of course not to forget my favorite food stalls. A lot of things changed but Gupta Uncle and his panipuris were the same as it is.

As my trip was coming to an end, I again felt mixed emotions. I was happy to spend time with my family and friends, but also there was a feeling of sadness that I had to leave. Leaving the airport, I looked back at the city. It was a mix of old and new, busy and calm, happy and sad, altogether. And that moment I again realized I belonged there no matter how far I go, it will always be my home.