My Girlfriend

She came with a bunch of red roses in her hand. She looked at me. With lot of hopes. She even smiled at me. I was pretty clueless. She didnt look attractive. She didnt have that electrifying smile as well. I was actually not interested in her. There were other things on top of my mind at that time and this girl with red roses was certainly not my priority.

She looked again at me. This time with more pleading smile. I tried to look away from her. I didn't give any importance to her. I normally don't. I tried to pose as if I didn't notice her at all. She pleaded again "Babuji, le lo na".

I looked on the other side of the road. I saw a girl of the same age. She wore tattered clothes. She was pretty much grown up. She must be atleast 15. She was not attractive either. But the fat guy in the Honda CIVIC couldn't think anything else. I wonder how would I know what he was thinking. But his eyes were pretty vivid. His eyes travelled from top of her entangled hair to the partly uncovered breasts. He must be cursing why didn't she meet her on a lonely road. He gave her a coin and moved ahead as the signal went green.

This girl was still there. This time she said "Please Babuji". I smiled at myself. How strong is this word "Please". All those who speak english or don't speak english never miss the opportunity to say "Please" if they know that sayign Please would actually clinch the deal. I thought for a quick moment. This girl is far far better than the one standing on the other side of the road. She ain't begging. She is selling. She is working. I felt like supporting her. I passed on a twenty rupee note. She gave me a million dollar smile with a bunch of red roses. I didn't bother to count how many were they. The car behind me had already started honking. As if I will live on thsi road forever. I looked back and saw the most disgusting cursing face I had ever seen in months.

I quickly moved ahead. I was going to meet my granny. I hadn't seen her for over two months. She ain't my granny actually. She lives in Agashe Old Age home. She calls me Vicky. She calls me Vicky because her boyfriend was called by that name. Her parents forced marry her with someone and they lived happily ever after untill her children pushed her out to this old age home after her husband had passed away.

She says she loves me. She says she sees a son in me and all those people in me who at one point of time had given her love. I parked my car in front of the old age home. She was waiting for me. I crossed my hand over my back and held the roses hididng from her. Granny was happy when I tapped her head gently with the roses. I said "Its for you". She said "I love you". She was again in tears.

The Grass is greener on the Other Side

I sat in my balcony beside the rose plant. I have been seeing 3 buds which haven't blossomed since three weeks. I look far in the sky where the land meets the sky. The land has met the sky. The sun is yet to meet the land. I have been waiting for the sun to set - for once if this sun sets then there will be morning the next day. For once the next day will have roses blossomed all over. And then the air around me will be filled with freshness and with aroma.


The tired Sun refuses to go any further. A drowsy me lie down on the river bed waving my hand in the clear water of the river. But I can't see deep down the river. I can feel straw and leaves passing by and I try to catch hold of them but they slip each time. I am amused. I have never been able to catch hold of small things in my life. They have always been playing touch-and-go with me.


I run my fingers in the grass bed sitting near the Kadamb tree. I look up and see the yellow fruit which appeals me so much but yet can't quench my hunger. I look down at the grasses, they are turning yellow. They wish if I cry and the water runs over them. They will be quenched for once. But I do not have more tears to shed.


I am yet to run behind the sun - chase it - wish it to set one day. The next day will be more beautiful.

10:35 ki Fast Local

These trains do not start with a chug and move like a lazy serpent. They start with a thud and gain speed like wind. This is a typical Mumbai Local. I do not remember the date but all what I remember is the closeness of her in the crowded train and her warm breath over my neck which were more prominent than the breeze gushing in from the wide doors of the train.

I had reached Thane station 12 minutes before the scheduled departure of 10:35 fast local for Bombay VT. The goons preferred naming it Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus. I sat comfortably near a window seat when my nose was filled by with the spicy flavour of vada being fried. I peeped out to see a vendor fishing out hot vadas from a big Kadhayee. I couldn't resist myself and thought to grab one. There was still sometime left for the train to depart. If Mumbai Locals form the lifeline of Mumbai then these vada pav are like the fuel for the Mumbaikars. I gulped down the excess saliva which was flushing my mouth and went to buy it.

I turned back to see that my window seat was already taken by an elderly person. I didnt want to crib about it as the vada pao was going to be more relinquishing than the window seat. I got my vada pao and paid hurriedly. I sprang onto the train which would move any moment after the clock struct 10:35. It was tough to get inside. I managed to inch myself on the footstep of the train. And then the next moment came as a stagger in my life. I saw her rushing towards the train which had just started. She rushed balancing her bag and her duppatta at the same time. She caught hold of the vertical iron bar in between the wide gate of the local. Little did she realise that she was actually holding my hand. She stepped over my left leg and I helped her to get in the train.

I didnt want to leave the door because of the suffocation which was inviting me inside but didn't want to let this girl get smashed in the maddening crowd. I tried to make some space for her. She was still panting and a sweat drop was inching down her neck over her ear lobes. She gasped for more air and looked at me. She smiled and thanked me for my gesture. We had enough space now as the crowd had settled along with the zooming speed of the train. But this was a short lived comfort. No sooner the train had gained speed than it stopped at Mulund and a fresh "herd" of people pushed in. She was pushed closer to me. I moved my face away from her lest people would have taken it otherwise.

She whispered sorry and her face turned red in embarrassment. "I boarded the wrong coach; I always board the Ladies Coach - I am sorry", said she. I smiled back at her in assurance that it was fine and that the crowd shall settle soon. The rattling noise of the fast moving train, the chirping crowd and also the rhythmic lines of kirtan group sitting in the adjacent coach could not perturb the silence which was there between us. Suddenly the crowd started pushing even more. I looked out to realize that Dadar would be next station. She asked if the next station is Dadar - that was a question as well as an information. May be she wanted me to build some space for her amidst the crowd for her to alight safely.

I confirmed her about the next station and said that I would be alighting as well. I swirled by eye balls. My alter-ego showed me the middle finger. Was I really alighting at Dadar ? And if yes, what excuse shall I give to my Boss ? I didn't want to think about my Boss. She appears not much different than Mayawati.

I thought that I will get down at Dadar and may be I will be able to befriend her. Dadar came. She got down and so did I. I tried to move with her for a couple of minutes when I saw a tall man waving her hand from near the ticket counter.


She rushed and they hugged each other.


I stood there reading the indicators - I need to catch the next train to Bombay VT. Life is fast in Mumbai - isn't it ;) ?