Saturday, July 23, 2011


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 22; the twenty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Thoda sa baadal
Thoda sa paani
Aur ek kahaani!

Some say watching the rain is eternally romantic. Living in Mahabaleshwar where it poured every five minutes, he found that hard to believe. A thousand tourists came in every year to watch the cold and rain only to settle in the warm confines of his neat little cafe.

Farhan was always a bit of a cleanliness freak and on one such rainy day as he tidied the showcases for little specks, entered an Iranian girl, rain drenched, dressed in shorts and chewing gum. That she wasn't geared for the rain didn't bother him as much as the mess her mud filled slippers had created on the freshly washed floor.

Placing her phone on an empty table she walked over to the counter and tapped it for his attention. As he handed her the menu card, she skipped to the dessert section and with an indifferent glance dismissed it with a vague 'Item no. 4 please!'
'Caramel! Would you like a chocolate topping to go with it instead?'
He looked back at her for an answer but she stared blankly at him, blew a small bubble of the gum in her mouth and turned away to be seated at her table.

Must have meant a ‘No’.
He hated pricey customers. He hated gum. He hated the gooey caramel on the order she had placed.

See that's the thing with caramel. It sticks and stays. Tingles.
But not chocolate. No, not that. Smooth. It flows. Subtle and yet lingers.

He placed the dessert on her table and tried to avoid watching her eat as she cupped her face in one hand and neatly savored bite after bite. Every little movement was in perfect grace.
'Beautiful!', he thought.

As she finished her little indulgence and signaled for the cheque, it occurred to him that once out of his cafe, he may never be able to see her again. For some unexplained reason that made him sad. Immensely upset. Like something sudden had to be done to rescue the fleeting moment.

He handed her the cheque folder with a comments card and in the most casual tone he could manage, lightly asked, 'Enjoyed your dessert I hope miss?' She looked up at him and nodded her head,
'You really want to know??' After a brief pause she continued, 'Look, I wanted real authentic caramel, not some artificial essence flavoring ok!'
The stern tone of her voice was something he would never forget.

Stared. Stammered. Apologized. Angry.
He should have known nothing better would come his way. He hated snobs.

As he cleared the table and opened the cheque folder, the comments card lay on top with neat handwriting on the suggestions space that read-

'Staring at people when they eat is rude Mr.!
Nice little place you got here. Will drop by tomorrow so I can teach you how real caramel is made. Hope you're not a quick learner or anything.'

He smiled.
He loved the rain.
He loved the dim yellow lights.
Most of all he loved Item No. 4 on the dessert list.
Sweet Revenge- Caramel lover's delight.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

When you kiss a frog....

This post is written for Blogeshwar and Campusghanta

Are we going to talk about frogs? Yes, absolutely!
Just one in particular actually- Dodi, the hero of our story.
Now ever since he had been a little toadie to the time he grew into a handsome green slimy frog, he had only one girl in his life- Tinky.
Unlike humans, frogs don’t have different complicated sets of girls in their lives, like ‘just friends’, ‘more than just friends’, ‘good friends who can be potential girlfriends’ ‘girlfriends’, ‘fiancĂ©e’s’, ‘wives’ etc. No. It’s just one and that’s it. Besides, why take all the trouble- they all look the same anyway.

Haa ok so let’s focus here. Tinky was the only girl frog Dodi had ever known and loved and now you may think I’d say somthing like she didn’t love him back or the father was unwilling. But nah! Frogs are just eggs and grow up on their own, remember? None of this family waala pangaa.
HE loves; SHE loves; NO villain. Simple plot.

Everything was smooth enough for red heart shaped bubbles to float in the water of the moat that they called home but if that's all there was to it, then there wouldn’t be a story to tell right?
So one day as Dodi was having a sunbath for his shiny, slimy green coat to get a rugged tan and floor Tinky all over again, the unthinkable happened.
An ugly creature scooped him up and kissed him. His already huge round eyes almost popped out of its sockets like spiral springs in utter shock.

Whoaaa! Wohoaaaaa!!!! Who the hell does this mad woman think she is? I’m committed for God’s sake!’, Dodi wanted to croaky yell but all he could manage was a cough.
He had often heard at his froggie school about this age old folktale of a frog from their fraternity that turned into a prince and some such baloney, but hey, wasn’t that just a story?

Apparently not. No sooner had the ugly creature kissed him, his beautiful handsome gooey green coat was shed to become a pale white dry mass covered in silk robes with stick like hands and legs jutting out of from odd places. His long tongue was cut to an economical size too and as he stared at his reflection in the moat water, what looked back at him was an odd, ugly, squinty eyed creature.

Maybe this was what aliens were all about. And now they had taken him on their team. As he almost lost balance on his newly acquired feet the girl who called herself Neemi held him up and kept hugging and screaming alternately until a huge crowd gathered. That’s when she decided to announce to them that he was her prince. Naturally, anybody would be more than happy to dump a nagging loud mouthed girl like her on him.

They gathered around Dodi, introducing themselves and shaking hands all asking the same question, “Yo, Your Highness! Wassup!”.
Whatever that meant! Quite the show stopper he had become. He nodded and said something incoherent to which they rolled their eyes and walked away. Till date he had only met a few fruggly fishes and fatso whales but they too now seemed gorgeous when pitched opposite these uhh ‘specimens’.

Next he was shown to his ‘room’ by Neemi, which FYI was nothing but dry land with fancy wooden pieces  and a ‘box’ that flashed colors in which was yet another ugly woman reading some gibberish. Hello! Whatever happened to water. That he found was what came out of a funny looking thing in another small ‘room’. This surely had to be the smallest waterfall he had ever seen.
His heart hurt to think of his poor Tinky who would be waiting for him to come home.
Would he ever be able to see her again?

If only he could get Neemi woman to convert him back to being a frog! He could barely sleep in the brimming bath tub that night due to his longg stick legs. As he eventually dosed off with fatigue, Dodi dreamt of a Fairy Frog-mother who gave him the answer to his haunting question.
If the girl creature slapped him within 24 hours, he would become a frog again!The next day he set himself to the task of getting slapped. He thought of all the things that annoyed Tinky the most.
Well for one thing, she hated him croak loudly. Bingo!

As he met Neemi, he tried to croak loudly and out came a cough.
Hurried, she patted his back and showered him with confetti of concern.
He tried again, and out came a louder cough which sent her on yet another concern spree after which she fed him with food that didn't have a single worm!!!! Veggies, more veggies, root veggies, leafy veggies, light green veggies, dark green veggies, olive green veggies, even flower shaped veggies.
He had never felt more miserable before.

As all the food and medicine closed in his throat he felt a nauseous sensation that brought it all rolling out on her dress. Tishcaooo landed a tight slap on his face with frenzied agitated cries of anger.
Well who cared! His slimy coat had returned.
Dodi leapt out of the house and dived into the moat to meet his lovely Tinky.

As he met her, she folded her hands and asked the daunting question ‘Where have you been?
Helpless he turned around and said, ‘Oh nothing. Just went hunting to reserve our hibernating location. Girl, don’t you know anything about inflation and recession and stuff?

Cultural shock had certainly left him with an acute hangover.

**********THE END***********

P.S.- Thanx! ;-)

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Gentlemen don't come by too often

Chinnatambi had only just typed his name on the Google homepage to scale the geometric upward graph in his virtual popularity when the maid announced the arrival of a guest. ‘That’s so very odd’, he thought for someone to call upon him in this part of the night. Maybe he should send the person away. But then he thought about how they may have counted on his expert advice and in dire need of his kind, most gracious help. He sulked inwardly for the demanding nature of his work. Oh well!
Instructing the maid to send the guest in, he kept aside his spectacles to divert his attention to the incoming visitor.

The door opened and entered an out of breath vibrant girl in her mid twenties who looked rather harrowed for her personality.
‘Hello Sir. I’m Ruchi' she said and extended her hand.

The famous detective he was, troubled people often came in to seek his help, though they weren't usually half as attractive. His forte lay in spying or gathering evidence on cheating spouses. Course other more out in the open sources, like ‘Emotional Atyachar’ had tried to play a dent in his popularity but hadn’t succeeded much thus far. He certainly maintained tag for being best in the business.

Before he could ask the girl reason for her dropping by, she delved into all explanations herself. She suspected her husband was cheating on her.
‘Office Secretary?’, he volunteered.
Ruchi vehemently nodded her head to indicate a yes and her eyes showed deep gratitude for now being convinced of coming to the right place.
‘But you will help me no, sir?’, she asked with pleading in her eyes.

Chinnatambi examined her countenance. The girl sure blinked a lot and as she talked a deep dimple showed in her cheeks to every time she pronounced the letter ‘e’. Now you may want to know that he wasn’t the type of person to be swayed by any easy on the eyes woman who barged in at odd hours but she was different. Less for the features and more for the sadness that now reflected in her eyes that you could surely tell were used to dancing with happiness.
An extreme sympathy, that’s what he felt for her. Had it been another person, he would have asked her to come again the following day, but this time or this person rather, he did not want to disappoint. He was going to have to use all his super awesome detective skills to get to the bottom of this matter.

Was it really a good idea to see this fellow? To me he didn’t look half as smart as I had anticipated and the way he scrutinised my appearance sure freaked me out a bit. Now if it wasn’t for the dicey situation at hand I never would have come here in the first place.

So instead, he agreed to take up her case and was about to begin questioning her when the girl’s cell phone beeped and as she read the contents of the text message, her face turned pale. It was Ruchi’s husband who had found out about her absence from home to meet some detective. Scared and shaking like a leaf, she rose to leave his residence but he stopped her midway.

Where would this frightfully attractive woman go in the middle of the night to a husband who sounded scary and unforgiving at the very least? He worried for her safety and being the chivalrous gentleman he was, offered for her to stay as he went to meet this nasty husband of hers. Ruchi’s eyes filled with gratitude and the thus far elusive dimple cut into her cheeks at which Chinnatambi found it hard to contain his appreciation for the most gorgeous smile he had ever seen. In the meantime, she gave her address and thanked him profusely for being the considerate man he was.

Two hours later as he entered his house, the door was left ajar, the maid disappeared, safe broken and the entire house relieved of its valuables.
But obviously Miss Ruchi was nowhere to be seen.

Oh c’mon what did you think. Batting eyelashes was the only role I had in the story?
Calls himself a detective!!!!!
That was pretty much the easiest target in my five years of business!

Chinnatambi surveyed the mess, nodded his head and called the police Superintendent to free the arrested maid and her sister who had tried to get away with a fare of almost two lakh rupees.
‘And may I speak with the girl in red please!’
He waited as the superintendent held out the phone to the girl.
Yes!’, spoke a gruff irritated girl’s voice at the other end.
Oh hello miss! I trust you've had an eventful evening. Might I suggest, the next time you intend on robbing a house please ensure your address isn't the same as the one put down by the housemaid in her bio-data. It was a pleasure meeting you. Pretty girls ought not to stay in unpleasant places.’, he said and hung up.

Seriously! Over smart girls are just so tiresome.
No sugar cookie ain’t beating the best just yet!, he thought and smiled to himself.

********THE END*********

The real Ruchi *my sweeto sis*, I understand won't be too happy to read this. So here's a publicity pitch.
Visit her blog at Kamikaze Speaks. You're gonna louuuuve it :-)