hopscotch

These photographs are of my mother's garden - her favourite flowers, trees and her final resting place. This is how it looks like in her absence. I have tried to capture various corners of the garden.

Is it Saturday today? Why is there a pin-drop silence then? The usual background voices/sounds are missing...and I have realised it now. I can't see Miss Jingle-Jangle's head bobbing over her work...nor have I met her at our favourite destination – loo. Our paths cross there almost every time of the day when I go to relieve myself. Our paths cross...but we never ever smile. In case I miss meeting her, I can always tell if she was there before me – the overpowering fragrance of her perfume and spilled water near the washroom. Reminds me of Archimedes's 'eureka' experience. (I am being wicked!) Well....Miss Jingle Jangle's braying irritates me most of the times. She is forever on call. “No....no. I need you to book Mr....X and Y on this flight. He will be returning back on...” Her favourite topic though I can guess sitting on the other side of the aisle is, food. “ Nahi..nahi sweet dish toh jaruri ahe. Hum log neeche gaye 5 min, 5 min karte rahein. Humnein t

This is a story I did four years earlier. Visit Kamala Dutta's house if you want to meet Santa Claus. He is there in all shapes and sizes. Lovely photographs too. Will upload in some time. --- Where does the Santa Claus stay? North Pole? Not really. More than 1,200 Santa Claus’s of varied shapes and sizes jostle for space in Kamal Dutta’s house. Santas made from tooth pick, sand, rangoli, wool, wax, ceramic plates, bottles, keys, pots, mugs, tiles, egg shell, coconut, pencils…whew. You name it and she has it! Every Santa, Dutta has bought or made, is proudly displayed in her showcase’s, while others are neatly packed away into cartons and boxes. Pulling them out for inspection and putting them away is such a difficult task that 76-year-old Dutta just showed us a ‘glimpse’ of her collection. Ask her how many Santas she has in her collection and Dutta says, “I stopped counting after I reached the total of 1,200. It’s not a numbers game for me.” A librarian by profession, Du

I happened to be in Sadashiv Peth yesterday. The landscape/skyline has changed. Old crumbling wadas (there are a few left) are now sandwiched between apartments, buildings with fancy names. I was walking home so I decided to do a random check – to spot buildings/stores which I frequented to when I was staying in the hostel. Yup, Shabdali was there. The owner looking unhappy...(was he threatened by the new, swish, swanky, modern stores off the block?) I went to Shabdali often to buy Teens Today, Tinkle, Outlook and India Today. On the opposite side, there used to be Calyx – a card shop. Now there's some electronic store there. I took a turn to the Madiwale Colony. My friend's house is still there. I didn't drop in to say hello. She is in US now. Then another left turn and I came to Swami Samarth Math. I liked being there. I used to stay as a PG in a house which had its back to the Math. Now, the house has been razed down. Another apartment has come up. At that corner

My first attempt at story-writing. Didn't quite work out. --- Sonia and Meera just couldn't stop smiling! They were setting off for their first trek in few hours time. They giggled at the thought of the fun they were going to have – new friends, trekking and playing in the snow and singing and dancing around the bonfire. What the girls didn't admit to each other was the fact that they were hoping to meet their Prince Charming! That was their secret! At 5 pm, they were at the Pune Railway Station, shepherded by Sonia's father. They spotted the group of trekkers and went over to meet Avadhoot, the group leader. The girls were the youngest member of the group going to Pubbar Valley near Shimla. There were quick introductions and Sonia found herself half in love already. Meera noticed her friend blushing. And guessed the reason behind it. She quickly tugged Sonia's hand when they were boarding the train. “What's up?” Meera whispered into her ears. “Sss

This was written for a contest. Results will be declared in June. Wish me Luck. ---- I was home after almost six months. I stood in the veranda with the bag hanging down from my shoulder. The garden looked lush green and neatly manicured. My growing up years have been associated with this place and its transformation from a vacant plot, into a kitchen garden and then in to a 'wildly growing' garden. There were trees, thickets, shrubs, potted plant, cactus, flowering plant, money plant...you name it and we had it. Or rather my mother had it. My parents, who wanted to build a small house, had pooled their meager resources to buy the land. When the house was being built, we (my elder sibling and I) often accompanied our parents to see the construction. The area surrounding the house, looked dusty and barren except for few trees. “Teak! That's teakwood tree,” Aai shrieked loudly. I had looked around to see if anyone had overheard us. “And”, she said pointing to anothe

For the last few days I have been humming Door Koi Roshan Hua Ek Chehra ...from Thakshak , one of my favourite films. On a whim, I am listing down few romantic (ahem ahem)songs which begin with D Alright, the first one is Deewana Hua Badal from Kashmir ki Kali . Next one is Dooba Dooba of Silk Route (Loved the sea in this one). Then comes Dil Deewana From Maine Pyar Kiya (Bhagyashree's yellow sari...YUCK!). Dil Tadap Tadap Ke from Madhumati... Deewana...Haan Deewana from Parde. There are others too like Dard-e-Disco and Dhoom Machale...but I am not so enamoured of them...