The Van Thief

“Quick,” she snapped out instructions in a crisp, matter-of-fact tone, “Let’s split up, grab the fastest vehicles we can find, and stop that van before it leaves the village.” So saying, she hot-wired a car parked nearby..

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… and of course, all I was left with was this khataara from the zamaana of Baba Sehgal… I mean… Adam.
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But beggars can’t be choosers, as they say, and so, we were off, on another wild, exciting chase.
OK, I realize that in my rush of adrenaline, I have neglected to provide you with any background or context at all, so let me correct that pronto.
We were in Trevelez, the highest village in Sierra Nevada region in Spain, famous worldwide for its Serrano Ham.
We had just alighted from our bus when we saw an old couple sitting on a bench. They were looking quite distressed, so we asked them what was troubling them. And it was then that we came to know that they had parked their van in the parking this morning, but had come back to find someone driving it away.
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Context over, let us now cut straight to the chase.
The van had a decent head start over us, but the streets of the village were narrow and winding, so the thief could not drive very fast. But we were going slow too, and were nowhere close to catching up with him.
My wife suddenly braked so hard that my bike hit her car from behind and toppled over. “Change of plans,” she shouted, jumping out of her car as I inspected myself for any injuries, “Let’s follow him on foot, he won’t suspect us and drive fast then, plus, purely incidentally, we’ll get to click some nice pics also.”
Her logic being impeccable and indisputable as usual, we abandoned our vehicles, and continued our chase on foot.
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Though, from the photos, you might suspect that we were involved in dereliction of our duty towards the old couple, let me assure you that these joyous expressions are just to fool the thief into thinking that we were just innocent tourists. We were flitting from one street to the other, keeping tabs on the current location of the van, when we suddenly found ourselves back in the village square, with the van parked by the side of the road.
Excited and apprehensive in equal measures, we approached the van with measured steps, trying very hard to not make any noise at all. After five minutes, we finally reached the van unchallenged, and taking cover of the van, we walked up to the thief, jumped out and shouted “DHAPPA!”(Narrator’s Note: Hindi, loosely translated as GOTCHA! Has its origin in the game I-Spy, or as it is called in India, Ice-Pice)
And it was then that we realized that the thief was actually a middle-aged woman, who looked as if she belonged to a nice family. She was so shocked upon seeing us that she dropped the basket of breads that she was carrying in her hands, and burst into tears.
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We were nonplussed, but not for long. Quickly regaining our equilibrium, we sternly confronted her and asked, “You thief, why did you steal that poor old couple’s van?” She started stammering upon hearing our accusation, “I… I..I…Wait…WHAT?” she cried out, finally getting out of her shock.
“How dare you call me a thief? This is my van, ask anyone. I’ve been selling breads in it for the past 20 years.” As she paused to take a breath, we quickly risked a glance into the van. She was right, the van was loaded with delicious-looking and delicious-smelling breads of various shapes and sizes.
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“And what old couple?” she asked, continuing with her tirade. Feeling a bit dazed, we meekly pointed towards the old couple sitting on the bench.
She saw them, and then looked at us suspiciously and said, “OK, this practical joke has gone on long enough, better put an end to it here, or I am calling the cops!” Full of righteous indignation, I replied, “Then call the cops, we don’t care. We were just trying to help two old people in need! Isn’t this their van?”
“Yes,” she replied in a somber and shocked tone as she realized that we were speaking the truth, “It was, but more than twenty years ago. These are statues of my parents. They died in this very square, shot by carjackers who were trying to steal this van! “
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The Dogged Follower

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Everyone knew that Ignaccio and Abel were the thickest of friends, but no one knew why, for they were as different as chalk and cheese. Ignaccio was huge, majestic, proud, and ferocious, while Abel was… well… tiny.
Ignaccio was a hero to all the dogs in Pampaneira, while Abel was…well…tiny.
Like all the other dogs in the village, Abel too wanted to become a hero like Ignaccio. So he kept trying to persuade Ignaccio to hire him as his apprentice, but Ignaccio was too busy being in love with himself and his own reputation, so each time Abel approached him, Ignaccio kicked him away, saying, “You’re so tiny, why do I need you around me, after all, what CAN you possibly do that I cannot?” Abel had no real answer to that rhetorical question, so he said nothing. But like Eklavya, he kept following Ignaccio 24/7, from a healthy distance of course.
And now, it so happened that one day, Ignaccio was strutting about in the village market with his usual gang of followers, when he saw an old woman whom he had never seen before, sitting in the sun and selling some goods.
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One look at her, and Ignaccio couldn’t stop himself from breaking into loud guffaws.
The woman stared at him and asked, “What do you find so funny Ignaccio?” In his flippant mood, Ignaccio did not even stop to consider how a stranger knew his name, and said, “You’re so ugly, you should remain shut away from everyone’s eyes. You’re spoiling the beauty of this lovely village square.” His friends too started laughing loudly at this, but the woman did not say anything, just kept looking at him.
The very next day, Ignaccio was walking from Pampaneira to Caplileira around 4 kilometers away when he saw a vision from heaven. It was a female dog like he’d never seen before, and he realized that for the first time in his life, he had fallen in love with someone other than himself.
He tried to approach her to introduce himself, but she scampered away. He followed her, but she kept running faster than him, but not so fast also that he lost sight of her. Finally, she stopped in front of an old house, and ran up the stairs, on to the roof. Ignaccio followed at a breakneck pace, and just as he reached the roof, he saw something that shocked him beyond belief.
The dog that he had been following was removing her skin, and beneath her… was a goat.
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The old woman whom he had insulted was standing next to her, chuckling to herself. Still in a daze, Ignaccio heard her say, “I just wanted to teach you a lesson that appearances can be deceptive, and you should never judge someone by their looks. Now, I think, it is your time to be shut inside, for a vain creature like you does not deserve to be seen in public!” So saying, she pushed him into a small store, and placed a large stone in front of it. And then, still chuckling to herself, she left with her goat, leaving Ignaccio imprisoned, alone.
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But not quite alone. For unbeknownst to both Ignaccio and the witch (and the goat of course), Abel, as usual, had been shadowing Ignaccio from a distance, and had seen everything that happened to him. So, as soon as the witch had left, Abel ran up to Ignaccio’s prison, and said, “Don’t worry Ignaccio, it’s me, tiny Abel. I will quickly run to the village and get your friends to rescue you.”
Ignaccio howled from inside, “Do not do that at any cost, I do not want to be humiliated by everybody when they come to know that I was duped by a goat and an old woman. Whatever you have to do, do by yourself.”
Abel heard his hero, and got cracking, that is to say, he cracked his head against the stone as he tried to push it with all his insignificant might. Ge kicked it, pushed at it, tried to set fire to it, but all to no avail. Ignaccio asked him for a progress report, and when Abel reported that he had not really made any progress, Ignaccio blew his top, and shouted, “It is all my fault. I should not have entrusted you with my rescue. You’re so tiny, what CAN you possibly do?”
And that was the final trigger that Abel needed. He paused, looked at the prison from all angles, and finally arrived upon a plan.
He quickly darted into a small gap between the stone and the door, barely managing to fit in. Then, with his back against the prison door, he pushed the stone outwards… and with his face red with effort, finally felt the stone move, first gradually, and then, as momentum and physics took over, watched with satisfaction the stone fall away from the door.
He then unbolted the prison door. Ignaccio bounded out, and when he saw the fallen stone, saw with shame what the tiny dog had managed to achieve, only to save him. His eyes teared up, and he hugged Abel and said, “From today, you will never be away from me. I shall teach you everything you need to know to become a hero, that is my solemn oath to you!”
They returned together to their village, to the surprise of everyone. Ignaccio announced his oath onve again, in the presence of all hos friends, and everyone celebrated the hero that was Abel.
Evening arrived before they knew it, and Abel left for home after a night of drunken revelry with his new friends. He opened his door, but saw that he was not alone. He was scared out of his wits, and cautiously started exploring the house. As he entered his own room, he saw someone sitting on his bed, waiting for him in the dark.
 He quickly switched on the light, and when he saw who it was, breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Oh it’s you! The plan worked perfectly, thanks for everything, here’s your money.” And he handed over a wad of Euros to the old ‘witch’, who then, still chuckling, walked out of the door!
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The Predators of Pampaneira

It was a race for survival, and we were on the verge of losing it.
We reached Pampaneira, one of the three white villages of the Alpujarras in Sierra Nevada, in the afternoon. The bus dropped us at the base of the village, but our final destination, like everybody’s final destination, was up. In our case, almost a kilometer up a steep hill, through narrow winding lanes and uneven, rough ground.
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But we were still not daunted by this tall, or should I say, high task… till they started coming after us.
Giant lizards, frogs, bees… with only one thing on their mind, making a wholesome meal out of us.
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This was definitely not our idea of a vacation, and so we ran up the first slippery slope that we came across. Close on our heels were the giant predators, who had a much surer footing than us, and had a much lesser tendency to roll.
It would be an understatement to say that our hearts were in our mouths. They were way beyond that, ejected out of the mouths unceremoniously after the first stop for resting, huffing, and puffing.
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But we did not give up, even though we were tempted sorely at times. Being eaten by giants could not be a worse fate than this mad chase sequence, could it? It was already early morning, and we were still running.
But just as we were on the verge of quitting, we saw a majestic sight that gave us our 299th wind.
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We knew we had to stay one step ahead if we wanted to catch that sight at least one more time. And so, we ran, faster than ever before.. and finally reached our destination at the top of the village.
We heaved a huge sigh of relief, and aware that we were safe now, slipped into a deep, peaceful sleep…. for all of two minutes. For suddenly, we heard a female voice exclaim, “You HAVE to see this, I have never seen anything like this before, these pumpkins are so huge!”
And the very next minute, a man came and stood next to us, staring at us with sheer lust in his eyes….
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And we knew that we had escaped a certain death at the hands of the predators, only to be skinned alive and then eaten by these humans!
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The Anniversary Gift

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As we clicked our first selfie against the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea, both of us realized the same thing at the same time – It was our tenth marriage anniversary, but we had forgotten to get each other any presents!
So we quickly made some random outrageous excuses to each other, and went scouring the supremely cute narrow, winding streets of Nerja in search of a suitable gift.
As I was passing in front of an art gallery, a squeaky voice suddenly called out to me. I stopped with a start, and stared suspiciously at the ‘ghareebon ka gora Mowgli’ in front of me. The boy stared right back, and said, “You should give her one of my paintings.”
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I was shocked that a stranger knew what he was looking for, so I asked the boy, “What makes you think your painting will be a good enough gift?” He replied pompously, “Because I am the greatest painter in the world, Picasso.”
“Kuchh bhi!” I mocked him, “Even I know that Pablo Picasso died long ago.” “Duh? Ever heard of time travel?” came his insolent reply, “You humans of the future are so backward, I tell you!”
I gnashed my teeth in irritation, and thought about commissioning a portrait of my wife, but somehow, that didn’t seem like a big enough gift, so I moved on.
Down another equally cute street, my wife was faring no better. She contemplated gifting me a historic cannon, but then thought – No, it is not rare and precious enough for him!
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Frustrated, she went to the place where she knew she would find the answer to the life, universe, and everything!
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And it was there that she did find her answer,
and realized what the best gift for me would be!
Meanwhile, I asked a former king for suggestions, but he was all at sea, for despite all the wealth in the world, he had never really given anything precious to anyone.
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And then, I bumped into two wise monkeys who were chilling by the sea.
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“Give her something that she would cherish more than anything in the world,” said the first monkey. And before I could react, the other monkey said, “Both of you have always wanted the same things in life. So what makes you think you need to keep running like a headless chicken to find the perfect gift for her?”
And just like that, I had my answer!
We both met running(Narrator’s Note: Fiction, so I can get away with this exaggeration, everyone knows I can’t run to save my life) at the Balcon de Europa and cried out at the same time, “I know what our anniversary gift is!”
Saying that, we turned towards the most beautiful sea in the world, and said, “We might be leaving the Mediterranean
Sea here, but we are taking back a sea of memories, which will last us a lifetime. And when we feel that those memories are fading, we will just travel some more and get some new ones! Can any gift be more precious than that?”
Gazing misty-eyed at the bluer than blue water, we both shook our heads, for at the age of ten, we had finally discovered the purpose of life!
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The Goddess of Malaga

It was our first day in Malaga, and after roaming around the old town for a while, we decided to catch a bus and visit a nearby village. She sat in the bus, while I got down to take some mandatory selfies…
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… when suddenly, I turned around to see that the bus, along with my wife, had disappeared.
I ran around asking for help like a mad man, but no one seemed to have any clue as to the bus’s, and her, whereabouts. I was nonplussed, aghast and at least a dozen other words in the Thesaurus. Then I saw a man standing by the roadside. I was sure that at least he would have seen something. I literally begged him to give me a hint, but he would not open his mouth, and kept standing there like a statue.
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Disappointed and broken, I turned around and started walking away when he said the two words that would save my life by getting back my wife.
He had named the patron goddess of Malaga.
So I rushed back to the town center, whete her temple was located, and prayed like I had never prayed before.
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But as is usually the case in such cases, she did not respond. So, I offered her a chadhaava (offering) of five pure vegetarian Tapas to make her more amenable towards helping me.
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And you know what? When all else had failed, this is what finally did the trick! We were together again. To live, to love, to laugh, and to make many more magical memories like these.
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The Tea Seller’s Anniversary

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He was just a humble tea-seller, spending his days at the international airport serving tea to thirsty passengers. He did not earn much, but he took great pride in his work, for a well made cup of tea, his grandmother used to say, can make your spirit soar, and your heart fly free!
But today, his spirit was crushed. His tenth wedding anniversary was just a month away, and he had no money to take his wife on a holiday. Not that she had ever asked for it, or thrown a tantrum, but he wanted to do something special for her, to celebrate their love for each other.
He was ruminating morosely on this sore topic when he suddenly saw a huge fight break out at the airport. A group of passengers had been waiting for their flight for more than 24 hours, and they had finally run out of patience. They were shouting at the airline staff, and the situation soon turned ugly.
He tried to ignore it for as long as he could, but when he saw the harried passengers physically attack the hapless airline staff, he could not take it anymore, and jumped into the fray.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, so he saw neither aav nor taav, and shouted, “Chaaaaaiiiii, Chaaaaaiiiii le lo Chaaaaaiiiii,” in his trademark style, perfected by his family over generations in innumerable train stations.
And lo and behold, the irate passengers as well as the under-attack staff forgot their dispute almost magically, and within minutes, they were sipping hot sips of strong ginger tea, exchanging anecdotes with each other and reminiscing as if they were long-lost friends.
He was looking at this new-found bonhomie beatifically when suddenly, someone tugged his sleeve. He looked around, but there was no one to be seen. Someone whistled at him then, but he still couldn’t see anyone. And then followed a series of long, insistent whistles, along with the heat waves of steam. It was then that he realized that it was his kettle which was making those noises on its own.
He looked at it in wonder, and was shocked when along with the steam from the kettle, appeared a giant tea bag, almost twice his own size. The tea bag looked kindly at him and said in a hissing voice, “I am the Tea God, fat and stout. Today, you have proven yourself to be a worthy successor to your grandmother, for tea is not just a drink, it is the very elixir of life. Ask for any boon, and you shall have it.”
And this is how he and his wife found themselves at the airport exactly one month later, but as passengers this time. They were on their way to Spain, to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary. Suddenly, they heard a commotion. Some passengers were shouting at the airline staff. His wife got scared on seeing this, but he quickly whipped out his kettle from his hand baggage, winked at his wife, and said, “Don’t worry, it’s all under control!”
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Rain Rain Go Away…

His name is Janardhan Jamwarkar, but his mother calls him Johnny. He is all of five years old, and you have probably never heard of him before in your life. He is also the one who is single-handedly responsible for these unseasonal rains in Mumbai.

It was the last day of the monsoons, and dark clouds had gathered all over Johnny’s home in Dadar, biding their time, waiting expectantly, but patiently, for their peak hours, when they would be able to impact the maximum number of people. It was month-end, and they too had targets to achieve. So there they were, filled with water, almost to the brim, waiting….waiting.

And in their palatial 125 sq. ft. home below, Johnny was throwing a tantrum….again!

For Johnny was a spoilt little brat, who didn’t really care about anyone apart from himself, and he wanted to go out and play cricket with his friends. His mother tried all the tricks in her book to try and convince him to stay back, for she knew it was going to start pouring cats and dogs any moment now, but he just would not listen.

She tried to bribe him with a new cricket bat first, but he just took the bat and said, “Good, I’ll play with my new bat today.” She then threatened him with his father’s wrath, but he said, “Once he comes to know that I scored a century today with my new bat, he will be so proud of me that he’ll ignore your complaints.” She finally applied her Brahmastra then, and with tears rolling down her eyes, begged him to stay, but Johnny, just like his new bat, seemed to have been made from wood, and started laughing wildly at her Nirupa Roy-esque histrionics!

As Johnny prepared to leave, his mother looked outside on last time. The clouds had become even darker than before, if that was possible. She just KNEW Johnny would catch nemonia…pnimonia…pneumonia (finally got it!) if he got wet today. She knew it in her heart, she knew it in her bones.

Desperate times, as they say, call for desperate measures, and if these times were not desperate, she did not know what were. So she did what she had seen people do in countless Hindi films when they had no recourse left…no, no, she did not gulp down a bottle of Vat 69 neat, she sat in front of her in-house temple, and prayed. It was an ancient prayer, passed on from mother to daughter for generations in their family, to be used only in case of the direst of emergencies, and that too, just once in one lifetime. So, she started chanting,

“Rain rain go away

Come again another day

Little Johnny wants to play”

It was a powerful mantra indeed, and the clouds, which, you may recall, were already filled to the brim, were forced to turn back and start moving towards their base station. They were angry at being denied relief (and at the non-achievement of their targets, their boss, like all bosses, did not really accept force majeure as an excuse) but helpless in front of the magic prayer. But the effect of the prayer was only temporary, and they bid their time…waiting!

Meanwhile, in Dadar, Johnny’s mother conducted an elaborate aarti ceremony, and sent Johnny on his way to Shivaji Park, to inaugurate his new bat, play to his heart’s content, and to make his father proud. Johnny was the opening batsman for his team. He walked up to the crease to thunderous applause…and within one minute, was on his way back to the pavilion in a pall of gloom. He had just been dismissed unceremoniously on the first ball of the match!

The clouds, who had not been allowed to relieve themselves in order to facilitate Johnny’s ‘performance’ in the match, waited and waited. Many days passed, and many dud innings from Johnny, who never seemed to be able to score even a single run, almost as if he was cursed.

It was September 19th. Johnny’s coach had given him an ultimatum- If you don’t score a century today, you’re out of the team. Johnny woke up, and started getting ready for the match. He could feel deep inside him that something had changed overnight, today was definitely going to be his day. He looked outside, it was bright and sunny, as if even the Gods were blessing him.

Johnny padded up, and walked up to the pitch with a swagger. His opponents from the fielding side mocked him, the crowd jeered, but he could not care less. He knew he was going to score a century today. He took guard, the bowler started on his run-up, accelerated, jumped….and bowled a near-perfect yorker!

Near perfect, not perfect, for Johnny read it in time, shifted his feet, and hit it over mid-wicket for a huuuuuge six! Balls kept being thrown at him, and he kept dispatching them over the boundary. Johnny was on fire today!

He was on 99 now, just a single away from a glorious century, and a guaranteed place in the team. The bowler started on his run-up, Johnny was the epitome of concentration as he saw each step almost in slow motion, and as the ball came towards him, he quickly pivoted, eyes focused on the ball, and just as he was about to hit the ball…the first drop of rain fell, right into his eye. He lost his concentration…and the ball…and his wicket, in that order! And as he walked back to the pavilion with drooping shoulders, the clouds unleashed their fury not just above him, but over the entire city.

For what Johnny had not realized was, that he had been feeling different because the effect of the mantra had been lifted. And that meant that the clouds could come back, and wait for the exact moment to take revenge upon him when it would hurt him the most. There is a price to be paid for using magic, and Johnny, along with the rest of the city, had just paid it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Lover of Oranges (A Healthy Love Story)

Aditya, or as he insisted everyone call him- Aadu, was a health-conscious boy right from childhood, which is not surprising, as both his parents were doctors. So, from the day his first crooked milk tooth showed signs of taking birth, Aadu was told to eat healthy. His first taste of any vegetable was Karele ka juice (Bitter Gourd juice), and he absolutely loved it, after all, it was healthy! But his favourite food item of all time was the humble orange, which, as his mom missed no opportunity of reminding him, was full of Vitamin C, and kept the body’s immune system robust.

This love for oranges often made Aadu a butt of jokes and ridicule among his chocolate-chomping friends, but he did not care- Oranges were the healthiest fruit, and he would keep eating them till his dying day. And he stuck to that resolve…till that fateful day.

It was Aadu’s 18th birthday, and he was extremely excited. No, not because it was his birthday, which his logical brain told him was just a date that brought him one calendar year closer to death, but because Natasha had invited him over post his birthday party.

Natasha….Aaah Natasha….The most beautiful, most perfect, most amazing girl Aadu had ever met. She’d just shifted into the house next door a couple of months ago, and it had been love at first sight for Aadu, who had never even looked at a girl before that day, as he felt they would distract him from remaining focused on his health.

Like all neighbourhood love stories, this too started with stolen glances, moved on to looks filled with longing, and first contact happened only after two months. And wonder of wonders, they hit it off almost immediately, for Natasha, just like Aadu, was a fitness freak.

She joined his gym at his recommendation, and now, they started travelling to the gym together, and spending hours there bonding over weights, cardio, biceps, triceps, quadrilaterals (Narrator’s Note: I am pretty sure this is not a real muscle set, but those who know me know that I am the last person to know anything about a gym, so kindly bear with me!) and, in the case of Aadu, oranges.

But all they ever talked about was exercising and health food, and Aadu longed to have a real conversation with Natasha, so that he could reveal the intensity of his love for her, which was almost making him ill from inside. But he trusted his oranges to cure his love sickness too, for, as his mom always told him, oranges were the healthiest fruit in the world.

And Aadu finally got his opportunity over his 18th birthday party. He had invited Natasha also, and meeting up in a non-gym environment seemed to have done wonders for their relationship. They chatted non-stop about life, their dreams, what they found attractive in each other….and as the party reached its peak, Natasha whispered in Aadu’s ears, “Let’s go to my place, my parents are out for a wedding!”

Aadu’s excitement at his good fortune was beyond belief. Natasha left first, making some excuse, and after a few minutes, AAdu told his friends that he had a badly upset stomach, and he HAD to go home and take some medicines to set it right. And just like that, he was off, running at breakneck speed towards Natasha’s home. But even while running, Aadu was keeping tabs of his speed, distance covered, heart rate, and calories burnt, so that he could share the same with his trainer in the gym the next day.

He reached Natasha’s home out of breath, and rang the bell. And as Natasha opened the door, Aadu’s heart started hammering faster than ever before, and it had nothing to do with the cardio that he had just been doing. Natasha seemed to have come straight out of her bath, her hair were still wet, and she was wearing a night suit that set his imagination, along with his heartbeat, running wild!

She made him sit on the sofa, and said, “Just give me a minute,” and went into the bathroom. As he waited for her, his heart still racing out of control, Aadu saw something that increased his excitement multi-fold. Fresh, juicy, luscious Nagpur oranges, kept on the table in a huge bowl, calling out to him!

Seeing them, Aadu couldn’t resist himself, and immediately picked some up and started peeling them indiscriminately and then gulping them down. And it was in the midst of eating seven orange slices at one go that Natasha walked back in, sat next to him on the sofa, looked at him with her dreamy eyes, and said, “Would you like to kiss me Aadu?”

Aadu, in his excitement, shouted, “YES!” but he forgot one tiny thing…the seven orange slices in his mouth at that time. The intensity of his YES forced the pips of the oranges to pop out of them, and suddenly, Natasha’s face was bombarded with some 40-50 orange pips, hitting her with rocket speed (or so it seemed to her at that time). And if that was not enough, one pip unerringly found its way to one of Natasha’s dreamy eyes, which had been so welcoming and seductive just a few moments ago!

Natasha howled with pain, but her howl was overshadowed by a louder howl, that of Aadu, for Natasha had punched him on his nose…hard, instinctively when his orange pips had hit her. Aadu’s eyes filled with water due to the pain, and when he finally managed to see, he wished he didn’t, for a trail of blood was running down Natasha’s eyes, and another trail of blood was running down his own nose.

Apologizing profusely, Aadu took out his phone and called up his parents in a state of panic. They came immediately, and one attended to Aadu, and the other to Natasha, and soon, the situation was under control. Aadu kept apologizing to Natasha throughout, but he knew from the way she looked at him now that he had blown any chance that he had with her…forever!

So, with a broken heart, and a broken nose, Aadu reached home and went straight to his bedroom. His mom checked in on him a few minutes later. She was holding something in her hand. She came up to him, and extending her hand, said, “Here, take this orange, it is the healthiest fruit in the world, it will help with the pain!”

And Aadu could not hold in his pain and frustration any longer. He took the orange, and threw it at the 75-inch LED TV, smashing it (the orange, not the TV, which had bulletproof glass) to a pulp. As his mother looked on in shock, Aadu calmly told her, “I will never ever, ever ever, ever ever…have another orange in my life!”

And those who know Aadu will tell you that this is is one oath he HAS stuck to till this day!

 

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Wake Me Up…

He hit me this morning….again!

It’s become almost a routine occurrence now, ever since he has started coming back stressed from work, and hitting the bottle every night, staying awake till the wee hours of the morning, trying to reduce his mental stress through this criminal stress on his body.

He was not always like this. When we first met, he was up and awake with a smile on his face every morning, wishing me a cheery good morning before he started getting ready. But then he got this promotion, and everything changed.

He is in a better position now, earning the big bucks, living the king-sized life. But the big bucks have come with a price, that of his mental peace, which is creating havoc not in just his life, but in OUR life! I am finding it increasingly difficult to handle his temper tantrums. But leaving him is not an option, I cannot go anywhere, there is no escape, for either of us. So he does what he does, and I do what I do!

It is the next morning now, and I try to wake him up at 0600 hours as usual. I whisper slowly, afraid to disturb him too suddenly trigger another fit of rage. But he does not respond. I speak louder, willing him to wake up, but there is no response. And then, since there is no alternative, I shout at him at the top of my voice, trying to force him to wake up with the sheer intensity of my voice.

And he finally wakes up with a start, and hits me on the top of my head…harder than he has ever hit me before. Then he picks me up bodily, not gently as he used to do in what now seems to be an earlier life, and throws me against the wall.

And as I find myself disintegrating, and various parts of my body pop out and disperse all over the floor, he shouts, “You stupid clock, why can’t you let me sleep in peace for one day in my life!”

 

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The Outraged Father

friday-foto-fiction-photo-prompt-lgbt.jpg
My eyes welled up, and I was overwhelmed with emotions as I saw them walk off. “He should have listened to me,” I told my wife in a broken voice.
“He always does,” she replied, “You know how much he loves and respects you, but this is something he had to do for himself.” I was still not convinced, and argued, “But he’s just started working…”
“You were a good-for-nothing bum when we got married,” she countered. “But what will people say?” I almost wailed. “It’s their decision, why should they care about what people think or feel?” came the reply.
“And what about my feelings?” I said exasperatedly, “Do you think I like it that my only son is going on his honeymoon with his husband and staying in a mere B&B, when I have offered them our Hawaii beach villa for free!”

-FridayFotoFiction-

 

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