Posted by: Sakhi on: November 23, 2009
Tears glistened in his eyes; tears of humiliation, tears of impotent anger, tears of shame…
“Say sorry!” coaxed the dean.
“But Sir, I did not do anything…” his voice trailed off, his eyes pleading.
She stood there, looking at him with venom in her eyes.
He looked around, as if to find some support, someone who will tell him that it was all a joke and he was free. What he found were three solemn faces, with down cast eyes and sympathetic look.
*****
It all started three months back when he was happily clicking his wife’s pictures and both giggling like kiddos. The bell rang and they found a young chap looking for Dr. Artha Shashtri.
“Yes, that’s me.” They were used to people coming to their place at all hours for various health related problems.
“Do you know Khyati?” the visitor asked sternly.
“Of course, she is doing her MSc at my department. Why, what’s the matter?” asked Artha with concern, fearing the worst.
“Better keep your hands off her, doctor. If I get one more complain from her, you will regret you were ever born. Is that clear? This is just a warning, next time I will not wait to come and talk to you.” Having said this, he was gone.
Artha looked at Shobha. A hundred thoughts passed through their minds as they looked at each other.
Artha and Shobha were doing their MD from the same college. Shobha knew Artha’s reputation. He was favourite of all. She had yet to come across someone who did not like Artha. Presently she hugged her husband and they tried to forget what just happened.
Worst was yet to begin.
Artha started receiving anonymous threatening calls. He was thinking of lodging a complaint with the police when one afternoon his best friend, Kunal, came to his laboratory, breathless, and told him to run off.
“Run off? What do you mean by run off? Are you crazy? Why?”
“Artha, do as I say! You and Shobha should leave this city immediately. Khyati’s uncle and his men are coming to get you. I heard them talking in the foyer on the ground floor.” His friend told him breathlessly.
“What? Why?” Artha was baffled.
“This is not the time to do all this interrogation.”
“What about Ma and Pa? They are at home.”
“Don’t worry about them. I’ll take care of them. Now, please get out of this place. I’ll keep in touch with you. Don’t come back till I tell you to.”
Artha was lost. Blankly he ran to Shobha’s department and they fled from their Alma mater like some criminals.
To be continued…
Posted by: Sakhi on: November 10, 2009

Names and certain incidences are changed to protect privacy!
“Papaaaaaaaaaaa…” Shree ran to her father to give him a bear hug as she saw him on the airport almost after a fortnight. She loved her father a lot but these days he was too busy with expansion of his business and was not able to give her much time. He kissed her on her forehead and hugged her tight. Oh, how he missed her! Shree was his only child and apple of his eyes. Shree filled him up with all that she had done in the past few days at school, about her friends and her win at State skating championship.
“Where’s mom?” Mohit asked her. He did not like that Shree had come to pick him up alone with the driver. He never trusted anyone with his daughter.
“Oh, mom was busy with some meeting, so I came alone. I couldn’t wait to meet you, papa!” His heart swelled with love for his daughter.
In a day or two at home, Mohit noticed some changes in his adolescent daughter. She was more chirpy than usual. She had some shyness on her face which wasn’t there earlier. Mohit disregarded these changes thinking that they were due to the transition of his little girl to the womanhood. Still, he made a mental note to talk about this to his wife. Just to be sure that there was no silly boy in his daughter’s life. BOY, was he paranoid!
But before he could dwell more on the matter he was on tour again and the whole issue was forgotten. But it struck him as odd when Shree did not come to pick him up on the airport this time. And as he noticed, the changes that were subtle earlier were pronounced now. Shree was lost all the time, spent more time in her room. Most striking was, her grades were below average, for the first time in her life. Mohit tried to talk to her but she refused that there was any problem. The heated argument ensued with Mohit striking her hard across her face, again, for the first time in her life! Tears of anger, tears of shame, tears of humiliation, tears of revenge slid down young Shree’s cheeks. She resolved to teach her father a lesson!
Mohit felt bad at losing his temper. He knew how futile it would be to deal with adolescent kids in such upper hand manners. He resolved to make it up to her the next day.
Mohit prepared Shree’s favourite breakfast, rosti and orange juice, and took the tray to her room. He was shell shocked not to find her but a note on her pillow. He collapsed on the bed reading his daughter’s life sentence to herself!
Malti found him sitting at the edge of Shree’s bed staring at the life size picture of their daughter with tears running down his face. He looked so haggard and lost that she had to shake him out of his trance. When she read the note Shree had left behind, Malti almost collapsed. A look of “What and when did so much go wrong” passed between them. They sat there, holding hands and crying over each others shoulders for their daughter.
When did Shree grow up so much! She was all of sixteen and fallen in love. Fallen in love with a sweeper! And she ran away with him to teach her father a lesson!
“God, why her?” Mohit kept repeating this again and again in his prayers.
“She is just a kid. She doesn’t even know how to boil water or who polishes her shoes. How will she survive? What if…” There were thousands of questions pricking Shree’s parents.
Mohit and Malti tried their level best, with all the contacts they had, to find their daughter to no vail. Even the boy’s parents were taken into custody but they too did not know where the duo was. It was almost two months now that Shree had gone. Everybody had given up hope, but Mohit. In his heart he knew he would find his daughter no matter what!
One day as he was returning from his office, he saw a young girl selling vegetables on the roadside. She, just a little, resembled his Shree… though this girl was in shambles, in tattered clothes and looked like she hasn’t eaten or taken bath in months. Mohit shook his head at how almost all girls of Shree’s age reminded him of his beloved child. Tears stung his eyes yet again.
But as he went a few blocks ahead something struck him. No, this girl has to be Shree… the resemblance was too much to be a coincidence. He asked his driver to take a u-turn, he wanted to be sure! He approached the vendor with caution. If it was Shree, he did not want her to lose her again.
He could not believe his eyes when he looked at the girl from such close quarters. His daughter had lost substantial amount of weight, once shiny black hair looked like end of a broom with filth in them. Her once lacquered nails were brittle with dirt underneath, lips were chapped and skin was now dirty and listless! Mohit fought inner battle not to break down with pain in full public view.
“Shree…” he called her tentatively. Their eyes met. Something flickered in Shree’s eyes, hope may be! Without a word father-daughter climbed in the car. Mohit held his daughter’s hand tightly, never to let go again.
He saw shame, humiliation, fear and many such nameless emotions in his daughter’s eyes and gritted his teeth. He vowed to ruin the boy’s life. But that can wait… till his daughter is brought back to life!!!
Posted by: Sakhi on: November 3, 2009
There she was! He ran after her, was about to tap on her shoulder but she vanished into the thin air. He was baffled, he frantically searched for her but she was no where to be seen. It was as if she was playing “Catch me if you can” game with him. He was desperate to see her face, but she eluded him. He could spot her from distance but as soon as he reached just near her she would disappear. He tried to call after her but his voice failed him. He fell down on his knees in that dark alley and watched his dream girl float away.
He woke up with a start… looked around and smiled to himself, shaking his head. He had this dreams since a long time. He never understood the context. His dream always ended up with that girl floating away. There was some lyrical mystery surrounding her. Sometimes he found himself reciting some verses for her in his dreams. Most of the times he didn’t remember but sometimes he did and he would write it down immediate after waking up. He had now a handsome collection of these poems. In his dreams she would, too, leave her diary at various places for him to read. She wrote such beautiful prose. If only he could see her face once! He sighed and got up to get ready for his job.
As he was blog hopping one day he came across this blog whose author, he found, had the same style of writing as his “dream girl”. He read post after post and got hooked to it. He tried to find out about this anonymous writer through “about page” but came up with almost nothing. The things mentioned in there were non-committal. He waited for her (he was sure it was HER!) new post thirstily, as if his life depended on it. Over a period of time he could manage to develop a good rapport with the author but she was still eluded him. How much ever he tried, she would not allow him to know her in real life. She now became his obsession. He would check her blog every half an hour to see if she had replied to his comments or if she had published a new post. He would become agitated or depressed if she did not reply to his comments. He would feel on top of the world if she so much as put a smiley as a reply to his comments.
Things started changing when more and more people started visiting the “unknown blog” and “she” would reply to all of her commenters with the same gusto. He started feeling jealous. He started feeling left out. He felt as if his world was coming apart….
I am not sure how to end this story. Can you guys help?
Posted by: Sakhi on: October 27, 2009
Kumud was excited about Achinta’s engagement. She and Achinta were friends ever since she could remember. She was a single child and so was Achinta. But they never missed having a sibling. They were like soul mates. “Bestest” friends, as Kumud likes to put it! Everyone was surprised when Kumud got married to Aunurag. It was assumed, even by their families, that Kumud and Achinta would marry. They rolled their eyes in unison on this assumption. Kumud easily moulded herself in her role as a wife. But Achinta always remained her best friend. Aunurag too accepted Achinta as a part of their family. So when Kumud called him about Achinta’s impending engagement Aunurag too smiled ear to ear. Kumud’s excitement was contagious.
As much as Kumud wanted to meet “the girl” before Achinta was officially fastened to her, she could not meet her till the day of engagement. When Kumud saw Achinta on the day of engagement clad in the traditional Bengali dress, standing tall and looking handsome than ever; her heart swell with love for her dearest friend. She almost ran to him and gave a bear hug. Both their families laughed at this childish display of affection. In all the merriment nobody noticed the shadow coming down on “the girl’s” face. Achinta introduced the two most important ladies of his life to each other. Kumud hugged Kakoli with equal enthusiasm and kept on chattering. In all her felicity, she did not notice that Kakoli was not sharing her exuberance.
*****
“Oye, what time are you coming for barbecue this Sunday?” enquired Kumud, as usual.
“Can’t, yaar. Kakoli is coming down for her shopping this weekend.”
“Aha… Dating-wating ‘n’ all, hun?” teased Kumud good-naturedly and both burst out laughing.
“Hey, why don’t you both come down once you are done shopping? I don’t think we will wind up party before 12. What say?”
“Let me see. I think we will be able to make it. Catch you on Sunday.”
*****
“Oye, sun yaar, I think we won’t be able to make it after all. Kakoli is having severe headache and she wants to turn in early since tomorrow early morning she has to go back to her place. Sorry buddy.”
“No problem… hopes she gets well soon. Hug her on my behalf”Kumud replied understandingly.
*****
This was two months back. In these two months Achinta’s visits to Kumud’s place reduced drastically. Their phone conversations, too, dipped. She complained about this to Aunurag, to which he just smiled and told her that it’s natural. She smiled a wistful smile. She hated Achinta’s absence, actual and virtual!
Kumud had expected to become friends with Kakoli too but Kakoli kept her at arm’s distance. There was this nagging feeling of unease when all four of them were together. The usual chatter and coziness were gone. Polite conversation took place of teasing. Achinta was the same when he was alone but the change was evident when the pair was together. He was not at home when he now came to their place.
As Achinta’s marriage date was neared a feeling of dread fell upon Kumud. She feared losing her best friend. She kept this feeling to herself but she knew in heart of her heart that it was inevitable. It was decided earlier that Kumud will be Achinta’s “best-woman” at his wedding. But that was before Kakoli came into picture. Now she was not so sure. Also Achinta had not mentioned it recently.
The duo came to invite Kumud and Aunurag for the wedding. The invitation was as formal as it can get. While handing over the card, Kumud’s and Achinta’s eyes held for a few seconds; Kumud’s eyes brimming with tears of losing her “bestest” friend, Achinta’s eyes brimming with silent apology.
Posted by: Sakhi on: September 22, 2009
First day at Leelapur, an interior hamlet in Utter Pradesh, was like a rude shock for Kahan. Till now he had read about hunger and destitute in books, but never was he in such close quarters with either. He was to serve as an intern in this village for three months. He was allotted a room besides the so-called dispensary. The room was almost the size of his bathroom at home. There was a wrought iron bed in the corner and the mattress did not look too inviting. Now he wasn’t even sure of safe drinking water either.
“Sir, would you like to rest today and start seeing patients tomorrow?” Dukhiya, the attendant, asked half expecting Kahan to run away from this place as soon as possible.
Kahan looked around and did not find any incentive to stay back in the room.
“Come, we will see how many patients are there!” replied Kahan.
“Only a couple of them as there is no doctor for about six months now. The nurse is managing with whatever he has.”
Kahan nodded somberly. He was too overwhelmed by his surrounding to say anything else. As they started towards dispensary, Dukhiya started filling him in about the village and its people. But his conversance did not prepare Kahan for what he was to see in the coming three months.
“Tell me something, why is your name “Dukhiya?” asked Kahan to feel a bit lighter.
“I am told that when I was a baby I used to cry a lot and always had a frown on my face, hence the name.” answered Dukhiya with a grin. Kahan noticed missing incisors. Dukhiya was a slight man with a slouch. His face was weather beaten and lined deeply. Later during his stay he observed that most of the adults in this village looked prematurely aged and had deeply lined faces at very young age.
He was reminded of “colour streaked” hair of young ladies of his city when he saw “flag sign” of malnutrition in the kids here. For one it was fashion, for other it was an aftermath of privation! Day after day Kahan saw and felt despair. Basic amenities were luxury here. He felt helpless when he could not give injection to many of the children because there was no muscle mass to poke needle into. He was a theist but looking around now, his faith in God was quivering.
*****
“Sir, sir….” shouted Dukhiya knocking at Kahan’s door. Kahan got up from his slumber with a start. He heard dread in Dukhiya’s voice.
“What could it be at this hour!” wondered Kahan looking at his watch. It showed 2 am.
“What is it? Why do you look so alarmed?” asked Kahan while still trying to get oriented to his wakeful state.
“Come sir, come fast, Bijuri is bleeding profusely.”
This was not the first emergency since he came to this village two and half months back, but he had never seen Dukhiya dismayed before. They almost ran to the consulting room. He saw a thin young woman sitting on the floor with her head bowed and her chaperone was crying and cursing profusely. He assumed that they were a mother-daughter duo. As it turned out, the daughter, Bijuri, was a widow since she was sixteen and presently she was brought here as she had miscarried. That explained the cursing. Bijuri did not look up nor did she say anything. It was difficult to tell from her demeanour what was she feeling and it was equally difficult to gauge her age, but she looked to be in her twenties.. With the treatment done he was requested to keep the matter to himself. He reassured them as he sent the duo home.
Feeling numb, Kahan dragged himself to his room and tried to sleep.
He dreamt of a young girl wearing floral pink and yellow frock running around in the field with a balloon in her hand, her unruly hair bouncing with each gallop. He hears her laughter. She runs into a boy and they both hold hands and play some more. The boy is called away leaving behind the girl alone. A small tear trickles down her chubby cheek. She looks around to play with somebody but found herself alone. Suddenly the little girl is whisked away by a lot of skinny and ravenous people. The girl starts wailing and the whole universe is filled with her cry. Kahan wants to snatch her away from the mob but his hands can’t reach her. He sees her being dragged away. Then he sees her again at his clinic, with her head bowed and bleeding. He sees the blood all over the floor. He wipes and wipes but the blood won’t go away. She sits there in the pool of blood looking at Kahan. Kahan frantically tries to stop the bleeding. Bleeding stops. She smiles at him, a rueful smile and walks away. Kahan runs behind her, to find her, to protect her, to tell her that life is much more than what she has found it to be. He runs and runs through the narrow lanes and fields to catch her, frantically looking for her. She slips away. Then he sees her again, on the other end of the field standing under a sandalwood tree. He could smell the perfume. He breathes deeply to fill his being with the aroma. He gingerly takes the steps towards the girl. He reaches the sandalwood tree and looks around for her. His head collides with something hanging from the tree. There he finds her finally, hanging by the twine, a small smile playing on her lips. But this is not the same girl who had come to his clinic. This is the girl with the balloons in her hands…the nine year old girl! Suddenly the mob appears and starts pelting the girl’s dead body with stones.
Kahan wakes up drenched in his own sweat!
Posted by: Sakhi on: September 15, 2009
Roshan collapsed on the bed on hearing what she just heard. She didn’t know what went wrong. How could he do this! She kept staring in the oblivion. Her head throbbed badly.
“Oh my God! What happened Roshan? Are you alright?” her mother almost screamed when she saw her daughter sitting at the edge of the bed lost and looking like she had seen a ghost.
It was then Roshan realized that her face was wet with her tears… tears of anger, tears of shame, tears of helplessness! “Hun?” she said as if coming out of a trance. “Nothing mom, nothing.” She did not want to say anything about the incident, not to anybody, especially her mother. She stormed out of the room.
Roshan wanted to go somewhere where she can find some peace. But peace will come to those who are peaceful at heart and her heart was in shreds at the moment.
She took her bike and zoomed on the highways where traffic was less and she could speed away. As if, the blowing winds would take away the hurt and shame along with them. If only it was that easy to unburden one self! She did not want to go home but it was almost twelve and she realized her mom would be worried. She had forgotten to carry her mobile in haste. She dreaded going home, to see him, to look into those eyes which she used to adore, where she found nothing but love for her.
She knew her parents were not like other couples. She knew her mom had withdrawn from sansaar very early in her married life, a couple of year after Roshan’s birth. She was like a hermit staying with them just for the sake of it. Roshan was now old enough to understand the sexual need of a person. Had she come to know that her father had a relationship, in real sense, with another woman, she would have understood completely. He deserved to be happy. The happiness he did not get from his wedded wife; happiness to be able to come home to a smiling face, happiness to share silly jokes, happiness to hug someone after a long fight, happiness just to feel that he is needed! She understood it all too well! But she could not understand her father’s sexual exploitation of a fifteen year old maid; a girl who was at least seven years younger to his own daughter! She could not understand how the girl too was so casual about it so as to talk about this affaire with her friend, as if saying, “This is what our lives are all about!” Why she did not tell any of this to her parents or was she happy about it? Was it money?
Her mind swarmed with too many questions; questions that would not be answered!
Not only had she lost her mentor but her belief in basic decency, graciousness of being human! She hoped that someday she would be able to pick up the broken glasses of faith and mend them. Even then, the cracks would still be visible and the pieces would still bear the blood from her shredded heart.
Posted by: Sakhi on: August 27, 2009
Hey Guys
I Have felt your love and warmth always. And you have made me believe in myself. It is because of your undying support that i have come so far in my journey as a blogger.
You have always loved my stories. And there is this contest on Indiblogger “Indiblogger of the month” for the category of Shortstories.
Please, friends vote for me at,
http://www.indiblogger.in/nominations.php?id=4
If you are not registered there, please, please get yourself registered and vote for me!! Registration is easy and simple…Do that for your favourite story teller!
ONLY FOUR DAYS LEFT…
Awaiting your votes with eagerness,
Sakhi
Recent Comments