The Identity Crisis

        

     

        Ankita felt as if the smile that had started off quite genuinely was plastered on her face since the past 2 hours.  Her legs were aching with all those sit-ups and her neck was stiff with all that jewellery and thick rose-garland!  Above all she was hungry and dying to eat some grub.  That is, if all those unending guests would allow her to!  Why had their parents invited every one in town, she wondered and fumed!

       
       She longed to escape from that fantastically decorated, spacious but over-crowded hall filled with raucous people and get some fresh air.  She had always been a victim of claustrophobia, she silently admitted.  Now she felt that she’d faint any minute.  But she even knew that she wouldn’t!  It was just an attack of nerves, as her friendly family doctor would patiently remind her, whenever she consulted him about her condition.

        
       As evening turned to dusk and then to night, she started feeling more and more panicky.  Her palms were clammy and her handkerchief had become wet due to her sweating.  

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

A Gentleman's Promise

           Chidananda  Kelkar’s  main grouse in life was about his diminutive stature. “Deva, why did you make me so puny?” he would ask, in a scolding and plaintive tone, to God, everyday in the morning.” His morning puja was incomplete without this part admonishment; part cry for help. “Now that you’ve already done the damage, please give me the moral, if not physical courage and strength to overcome all my adversaries in this world, he would continue, all the while cleaning the photos and statuettes of the various deities, carefully arranged in his puja corner, in the kitchen of his 2 room house which was on the second floor of a chawl that had weathered many a storm, yet remained standing proudly, much like the 56 year old Chidananda  himself.

           His adversaries were all those who occupied the cosmos of his worldly existence; such as his teasing  neighbors, unkind relatives, jeering so-called friends, why, sometimes even his 20 year old college-going son and  his wife, Suvarna, who occasionally, ribbed him about his height and weight, though in a good-natured way!

         

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

The Confirmed Spinster

     

       Nevertheless, Mr. and Mrs. Kumar had mustered courage and placed their proposal, cautiously, before Nirmala and Prashant, one evening. “Here is the resume and horoscope, along with the latest photo of our only daughter Jaya. Kindly match it with Prashant’s horoscope and let us know if you would be willing to consider our daughter’s match for your brother. We’ll take care of all the preparations for the wedding. Also, let us know whether you desire any gifts from our side. Jaya is the apple of our eye and our only daughter. Everything that is ours, is hers,” they suggested, evidently referring to any demands for dowry that the might have.

       
      “Mr. Kumar, we are against any give and take. I am against this system of dowry. If Prashant is interested, I don’t have any objection to this match,” Nirmala said haughtily. When their family’s astrologer confirmed that their horoscopes matched perfectly, the stage was set for the wedding. Prashant’s happiness knew no bounds.

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

The Identity Crisis

                                         Excerpt

     

        Ankita felt as if the smile that had started off quite genuinely was plastered on her face since the past 2 hours.  Her legs were aching with all those sit-ups and her neck was stiff with all that jewellery and thick rose-garland!  Above all she was hungry and dying to eat some grub.  That is, if all those unending guests would allow her to!  Why had their parents invited every one in town, she wondered and fumed!

       
       She longed to escape from that fantastically decorated, spacious but over-crowded hall filled with raucous people and get some fresh air.  She had always been a victim of claustrophobia, she silently admitted.  Now she felt that she’d faint any minute.  But she even knew that she wouldn’t!  It was just an attack of nerves, as her friendly family doctor would patiently remind her, whenever she consulted him about her condition.

        
       As evening turned to dusk and then to night, she started feeling more and more panicky.  Her palms were clammy and her handkerchief had become wet due to her sweating.  

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

The New Family Members

         The six months' old baby was lying on its side, covered by a thin towel.  It was shivering in the cold.  Its mother was trying hard to light up a ‘chulha’ with some coal and twigs.  Due to the weather, the ‘chulha’ refused to light up, as the coal and twigs were damp and couldn’t catch fire.  She felt helpless and frustrated thinking about how she was going to feed that baby.  With great trouble, she’d managed to beg for and get some milk from that lecherous milk-man in the dairy nearby.  She knew what fate awaited her that night!

        
         She was a homeless person.  One among many of those who made footpaths their home and lived like nomads!  On one street one day and on the other, the next day!  She had made this space in front of the Ganapati temple her home, since a month.  She begged for alms and people offered her money and food on the days that were auspicious to the Lord, like Ekadashi, Chaturthi, etc.  On the other days, she went and sat in front of other temples.  Hence on a rotation basis, she never went hungry as those days, those deities’ worship gained prominence!

        
         One could ask why she didn’t work for a living.  She had tried her hand at various jobs, but had always been harassed and pestered by her employers.  Hence she had taken the easiest way out to mitigate her miserable plight.  Besides, who would look after her darling son when she went to work?

        

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.