Archive for the ‘historia corta’ Category

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Gift

July 25, 2007

Damn! His favorite three shirts. Stained with a nasty brown. Huge messy patches of the color on the sleeves and the back.
Damn! Damn! Damn!

Its her new capris. She remembers carelessly tossing them into the machine after the party with the rest of the clothes.

‘I am so sorry. I am really really sorry. I am such a jerk! I know I should not put new clothes in with the rest of the clothes before checking them for running color.
I am so sorry!’

‘Its all right babes…. Its ok’
No..its not…I just ruined your best three shirts!
‘Yep…its ok..just dont do it again, all right?’
‘Yep..sorry. am so sorry’

‘I will make up for it. I will. I will’ she promises herself.

Two new shirts. Chosen after one hour of trepidation.

Do you have this exact shade of orange?
Sorry Mam..not available.

Shop 1, 2, 3…..6, 7. Sorry Mam..not available.

Ok…this is a nice orange shirt. And this one with the grey and yellow lines looks smart.
Will he like them? Are they his size? Will they suit him? What if he doesn’t like the color or the print?
She hasn’t been shopping out for him before. It’s the first time she is buying something for him. Hope he likes it.

Is this cotton? Will it be comfortable.
Will you take it back if he wants to exchange it? How many days? Ok….thanks…

Fingers crossed.
Hope he likes them…hope he likes them.

He walks in. She looks at him at a smile lights up her face.

Hey.
Hey… listen I am sorry about those shirts.
Hey its all right… just forget it OK?
No…. I cant ….so….I went and got you this!

She smiles hopefully. Gives him the bag. Crosses her fingers as she hands them over. He doesn’t see that.

He looks and shrugs. ‘I didn’t want compensation. Would have preferred a gift’ he says.

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Short Story

July 10, 2007

Ten years of believing
Nine phone calls
Eight days of waiting
Seven p.m.
Six glasses of wine
Five course meal
Four candles
Three hours.
Two faces.
One memory.

Infinite happiness.

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The perfect evening.

June 30, 2007

White Skirt. Fits Perfect. Great. Red or Turquoise top?
White or black bag? Which to pick? Which to drop?
A little bit of foundation. On the neck. To hide the bite.
A dash of kohl and the eyes are smouldering just right.
New lipstick. Kept for the occasion. For this evening.
For all she knows, this is the end or the beginning.
Strap up the black shoes. Tightly up on the calf.
A practiced wink, a shy smile, a charming laugh.
A long look at the mirror. A promise of an evening.
Deep inside, like times before, she hears her soul sing.
Take the digicam. Timer set in seconds. Ummm. Five.
She strikes a pose. Vibrant. Vivacious. Alive.
Click. The picture is taken. Hmm. Nice as always.
Though could have had more light on the face.
Compose an email. Attached picture. As always, she is elaborate.
Writes “That’s what he clicked. Just before we left for the date.
He was bowled over. Totally. Could not stop gushing.
With everything he said, I could not help furiously blushing.”
Click on ‘Send’. Done. Her lovely perfect evening.
She will read their response tomorrow morning.
Slowly she caresses her feet and unties the lace.
Puts the strappy black shoes back in their place.
The skirt is hung back in the closet. No wrinkles. Right side.
The Red top in the laundry bag. The empty bag is flung aside.
The kohl and lipstick come off. She stares at her naked face.
She fingers her neck. The non-existent bite. Her only saving grace.
Back in her shorts and sleepy t-shirt, she gifts herself a sardonic smile.
A derisive shudder to herself. Falling asleep today will take a while.

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Flowers

June 28, 2007

“Happy birthday honey!” Eyes open. A dozen red roses.
“Thanks darling.”

“Happy birthday sweety!” Office today is three dozen lilies.
“Thanks guys!”

“Happy birthday darling”. Huge purple Orchids.
“Thanks Mom!”

In the dark, she smiles and delicately fingers the single white rose lying pressed in her favorite book since three years. Stolen from his grave.

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Time to grow musical quotient.

May 8, 2007

Been listening to U2, Greenday, Bryan Adams, Madonna, George Micheal, Pink Floyd, The Beatles, Sting, Robbie Williams, Billy Joel, Cliff Richards, Cranberries till today.

From today I stop listening to the above.

Time to grow my musical quotient.

From today onwards for sometime I will listen to REM, Bob Dylan, The Doors, Phil Collins, Jimi Hendrix, Genesis, Blind Melon, Bruce Springsteen.

…….. will someday attempt GNR, Metallica, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi.

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Sapphires

March 4, 2007

She froze at the first sight of him in the bookstore aisle. He was walking towards her with that familiar lazy walk. She could hear the voice in her head screaming for her to turn and hide her body behind some shelf. But her eyes refused to leave him. She remained rooted to the spot as he slowly walked towards her turning the pages of the magazine he carried. He had not seen her yet. If only she could make her legs obey, she could avoid him. Avoid the long silence that would follow. Avoid that smoldering gaze that made her insides melt every time he looked at her. But she could not. As he looked up from his magazine, he halted, slowly exhaled and in his characteristically relaxed way of going about everything, simply walked up to her. But he knew that she had caught the infinitely small moment where he had breathed in sharply as he saw her and his eyes flicked with disbelief. She knew that he could sense the turmoil inside her and would spare her the need to talk.
The first feel of his soft hand on her elbow unfroze her. She shuddered and her car keys slipped from her hands. As he bent down to pick them up, she tried to smile but she could see that it wasn’t expected. As he gently steered her towards the cashier’s desk, it didn’t seem important for her to ask where they were headed. She could not even remember what she had come to the store for.
They both remembered vividly. The last time they had sat below the red and white umbrellas of the café. The sunlight had danced in his eyes that beautiful morning. He had never looked as handsome. He had smiled shyly as he had slowly extracted a small green box from his pocket. She remembered being extremely jumpy, wanting to know what was inside but trying to keep a cool face. He had known she was nervous. He had smiled, teased her about her about her curiosity and put the box back in his pocket saying it was for someone else. She had recovered quickly from the shock, stared hard at him for two minutes while he laughed and then walked around the table to his side to kiss him with a ferocity that he still remembered. He had then given her the ear-rings, two brilliantly crafted deep blue sapphires set in sparkling white gold.

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The ear rings had a small thread looped through them – he asked her to break it only when she wore them the first time. She didn’t ask why. As she promised him she would, she remembered looking at him and wondering what she would do without him. Now she knew.
Now as they sat in silence, sipping on their coffee, both searched for something from that sunny morning in the others eyes. They wrapped the street noise and the busy morning café sounds around themselves sparing the other the need for conversation. As they stood up to say good bye, she rushed into him for a brief second and he held her tight. When their lips finally parted, they held the gaze for a long while. Then she walked away and never looked back, crossing the street and turning into the lot to where she had parked her car. Something inside her head told her to leave the street as soon as possible. As she neared her car, she put her hand inside her purse for the keys and realized she had not picked them up when she dropped them at the store. She remembered him picking them up and hoped that she could still reach him walking away from the café if she walked fast enough. She knew he would head off from the café in the direction opposite to the one she had taken.
As she rushed back towards the café, she slowed down a few metres away from the table where they had coffee. He was sitting there waiting for her. With the same calm, unruffled look that he always wore. As she walked towards him, she became increasingly aware of her body, of the way he looked at her with the hint of a half smile on his face, of knowing that he had known about the keys even before she had left. As she neared him she extended her hand to take the keys. He stood up, put his hand inside his pocket and extracted the two tiny little blue and white rings, he had discovered in his pocket as she had walked away from the café. The thread band unbroken.
As she looked at the rings, a solitary tear ran down her cheek and she slowly lowered her outstretched hand,while he broke open the thread.
And then as he moved closer to her, he knew that she had not worn ear-rings since that last sunny morning. Now as he looped them into her ears, she knew she would not be taking them off for a very long time. She knew that he knew too.
And it was then as she walked away for the second time, she knew why he had held on to the car keys. He had wanted her to come back, to break the thread that would set them free for the last time.

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What if….

February 9, 2007

She was more than a little apprehensive. It was the first time that she would be in the same room with him after months now.

The last time she was with him, she remembered kissing him goodbye with all the love she had in her, promising him that she would see him soon. He had held her hand as she started walking away and pulled her against him. Then he had kissed her with such ferocity, claiming her soul in a way that she didn’t think she could leave now. But she knew she had to. When finally he let go of her, she put her lips against his forehead and said she looked forward to seeing him soon.
Ten months had passed since that rain soaked afternoon. Winter had come and weaned and the spring threatened to change into summer.

Those first three months of crying, repressed screaming and bewilderment had gradually rolled into a dull ache that constantly throbbed in her mind. She had thrown herself at her work, at many things that didn’t really matter, if just to escape the pain. But those brief moments when she relaxed, shut her eyes and sorted her thoughts, memories came flooding back. She would try and close the doors to the past, but some of the water would still seep through the cracks in her doors, to wet her eyes. Even now, sometimes she thought…” What if..”

She didn’t expect it would be easy. She didn’t know what she would say. She didn’t know if she could even manage a casual greeting. If she could even meet his eyes. Maybe if she did, she would cry. Maybe he would not even come there. She half wished he would not. The other half of her wanted him to be there, with everything that she had in her. She waited for the evening. She didn’t want to wait for the evening. She hoped it would last forever. She wanted to be over with it as soon as possible.

As the evening drew closer, her trepidation increased. But she decided she would not miss this opportunity. After a long hot shower, that left her hair fragrant and her skin smooth, she walked to the mirror and stared at herself. She knew she had to look her best. She could not let him see her as anything less than her best. Her movements were slow and calculated, almost like she was aware of someone watching her all through the silent dressing up ritual. When she was ready, she looked into the mirror she realized that the last and the most important thing she needed was an invisible mask that covered all that swirling inside her and gave her a calm face and an expression that said “ Yes I am having fun”

Half an hour after the decided time, she sauntered into the room, trying hard to appear nonchalant. As detached and indifferent as possible. She could not say if she was being successful in her attempts. But she tried. Casually as she walked around the room, her hellos, her hugs and pecks, her smiles and her laughter felt a little hollow inside her. She wondered if they sounded as hollow to the others. Every turn of her lithe body was a deliberate graceful movement, just in case he was watching from some corner of the room. As she spoke to them, her eyes wandered around trying to locate the one face she wanted to see the most and avoid the most.

Then she heard someone say that he would not be making it for the evening. She did not ask why. Waves of disappointment and relief collided inside her. Where for a brief moment she felt relaxed, the next second, her reasons for being there that evening collapsed around her. She suddenly wanted to run out of the room, be alone yet be with everyone else. She felt angry with herself for letting him matter so much to her, yet understood that this was the closure she was seeking. After all she had not been responsible for everything that had happened after that last afternoon.

As she walked out of the door, she wondered again.. ”What if he had come here today?” Too exhausted to think any more, she walked the distance to the car intending to drive home as fast as possible, desperate to get into her bed. The dull ache behind her forehead felt more acute now. All she wanted was to get under the covers and shut out the world. Only she didn’t know, a few miles from her own home, the world was to shut her out, that same night. The next day, they could all meet again at her house not believing this was real. How could it be? Hadn’t they all met her last evening? She seemed so full of life, her smile as radiant as ever, her laugh as vivacious as always.
None of them noticed the plain blue envelope that had been slipped in through the door last night lying below the doormat.

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It contained a single sheet of paper, with a short paragraph, explaining to her why things had happened. It was written in that slanting straight hand that, she knew so well. The same handwriting that was scribbled on all those little gift stickers and cards that were lying under the black file in the last drawer of her dressing table. Answering questions she had been asking herself for the last ten months.
The last line of the half paged letter read “Sometimes I wonder what if…..”