CHANTINGS OF THE HEART

The fragrance of the lilies from the beautiful manicured garden of Ankita was soothing the wreaking nerves of Anjan. It had been an unusually busy week for him with erratic work hours, missed schedules, impromptu meetings and obviously sleepless, worrisome nights.  Anjan reclined and just looked out of the balcony thinking, 'Who says money can't buy you happiness?' He recollected how he came to the city with just a pair of clothes and a thousand rupees with mighty dreams in his beaming eyes.  It was a Sunday, a bright, beautiful day and Anjan decided to spend the day with his family. He turned his phone to the flight mode and came to the bed to cuddle his heartbeat, his son Veda who was sleeping peacefully unaware of the chaos the world outside was going through.  Anjan looked at his son's face, smiled and felt contented. For him life was the most beautiful in the company of his son. The tiny fingers just clinging on to him, the expectant eyes longing for company and pl

"Mom"," Mom Save us! " "It's burning, Mom, please save us." ' Aita', 'Aita' (bosua amak) Help us, Save us!! Arunima went hysterical once again!! She was uncontrollable, she was screaming and crying. It's been over three months now. Avinash held her up and started caressing and cajoling her not to cry. Avinash's heart was breaking too but he decided he would remain strong, he wouldn't be shattered. He needs to remain strong for his lady love, Arumina and his mother.  Arunima was sobbing. Over the past few weeks she had been mostly in a state of daze and bewilderment. She was under heavy doses of medication, being injected with anti- depressants and in taking sleeping tablets. Slowly, Avinash let his wife Arunima go off to sleep, he knew sleep evaded her. He switched off the light and looked around the house.  Avinash sat on the recliner, in order to read the newspaper. As he turned the page, a particular news caught his atte

Kadambari held the small box of sindoor on her hands. She loved the colour. Crimson red!! Yes, that was what she loved seeing on people's forehead. It was unlike the dark brownish colour found in her part of the country.  Kadambari stood looking at the small round red box, her eyes became moist. She remembered the day when the mother of a student gifted her a packet after she praised the colour of the ' Sindoor '. That evening she applied the vermilion after freshening up, and she looked bright and different. The red colour on the parting of her hair appeared immensely beautifully against the white Jasmine flowers, which she often ties to her long hair. Her husband Srijith praised her. She smiled remembering how crazy he was. Amma, 'Niru', Amma, 'Niru'. Her two year son Bivash who was playing nearby brought her back to her senses. She opened the water bottle and let the child have water. As she was sitting in the mat below, everything appeared before her ey

She shuddered! She woke up, she was sweating profusely. No, she did not have a fever. Slowly, she joined her hands and began praying. Yes, she is alive today and all thanks to the Almighty-the creator and the Savior.   Arunima Basumataree was wondering what exactly went wrong, that she was facing the wrath of her own brethren in the village. The villagers with whom she shared a very cordial relation sharing their best and worst times, how could they forget her contribution in changing the face of the village? How could they forget that her endearing efforts have brought electricity and water in the once neglected trouble torn village Phulguri as it lay 250 kms away from Sonitpur. How could the villagers just blindly ignore her contributions and just listen to the dictates of that devilish Babu Ram Narzary?   Arunima’s eyes welled up as she sat thinking of the golden days of her courtship with her love and husband Maheshwar who died a few years ago of Malaria. Her thoughts flowed to

  +91 98*** 7**00 +91 98*** 7**00 Once again Panchali looked at the number! She sighed, “This number was once so important to me.” A tear appeared in the corners of her kohl defined beautiful eyes. No, it’s impossible to forget! How could she when her dreams and realities were centered on the number only. Panchali once again looked passionately at the number. The pages of her pocket telephone directory have turned yellow with time.   A few pages have wiggled while some were free floating precariously; all set to fall down and float away. The crimson red rose turned brown and a few petals withered away from the peduncle.           A decade had passed; still that number could make her skip a heart-beat. Panchali turned the pages, yet her mind only centered on that number. She became disillusioned.   Unknowingly Panchali picked up her cellphone and dialed that number.   Even before she could remember anything, a girl picked up the call from the other end.   “Hello-Hello”

Mrs Naina Agarwal was strolling outside in the green lawn of her palatial bunglow looking at the beautiful flowers, butterflies and bees buzzing around. Each of these flowering plants have been nurtured by her with much love and care and now these were her only company.  Mrs Agarwal virtually celebrated her 68th birthday with her son's and their families wishing her over Skype. It's been two years since she met them physically. The last time they came to India was for the final rites of her husband.  Mrs Agarwal sat on the garden swing and kept on looking at the beautiful house which she and her husband built brick by brick with the hope of leading the retirement life happily in the company of their children and grandchildren. Instantly her mind was flooded with thoughts of the past and present and uncertainty of the future.  Each and every word of assurance given to her by her near and dear ones were fake. First her husband left her untimely, though he promised to be beside he

It's not unusual for Robin to work at eight in the evening. Yes, he has no shifts, no weekends, no holidays absolutely nothing; for Robin work is not worship, it's a necessity.  Robin looked around him, shops were decorated with curtain lights, masked people around him were dressed in their fineries, little children still argued with their parents for the pistols, guns, car's or dolls of their choice. A few children dragged their parents to the carts selling pizzas, momo's, chicken rolls or icecream. Robin looked at them with dismay. He had a pain in his heart and that reflected in his dark brown eyes.  Today is Maha Navami of Durga Puja, Robin was walking wanderlessly near the pandals, hoping to get something good to eat, but Puja this year was not good. There were hardly any doners distributing food and clothes.  Robin kept his plastic rucksack in a dark corner at the far end of the Puja Pandal. He sat nearby in the dark for a long time, trying to shoo mosquitoes and

Hiya was busy flapping the pages of the travel magazine which she picked up sometime back. The magazine finding it's place in the beautifully decorated corner table, amidst statues and flower pots was something she didn't expect- atleast in the living room.  Hiya carefully turned one page after another lest she mishandled and tore the glossy pages. She remained glued to pictures of the majestic mountains, the clear blue seas, the bountiful isles, laughing children and wild flowers, indeed nature's beauty was captured so perfectly that her thoughts moved to the pristine surroundings. How she missed her long vacations and trips to those mystified places.  The living room which was always entertaining some guest or the other was literally empty for the last couple of months. The room which was always abuzz with activities was also having its share of the lockdown. Riya sat on the recliner and glanced at the artefacts and pictures adorning the racks, shelves or corner tables of

" Aurat jaat ki sundarta uski rang main hoti hain ." (The beauty of a woman is judged just by her skintone) said Ram Avtar - the village head of Mukundpur even as Ramla and Mukesh were crying and seeking help. Ramla was weeping and amidst sobs muttered, " Uski kya galti thi?" "Daswi pass hain meri beti." "Kya hua agar sawli hain toh?" "Woh ladka toh teesri class tak padha." Yesterday was the most important day in Saroj's life- that's what pot-bellied Mukesh and his malnourished wife Ramla felt.  Ramla's brothers Kanu and Amritlal and their wives had made all the arrangements. They decorated the courtyard with mango leaves and flowers. A beautiful Rangoli was made at the centre and chairs were set under the shamiyana  ( a tent like structure). Aroma of delicacies prepared in the backyard could be smelt from as far as five houses in each direction. Vimla kaki( aunt) had applied mehendi on Saroj's hands and feet. She looke

Tania once again adjusted the pallu of the seafoam colored saree. This is the seventeenth time, she adorned sarees in over a period of three years. Well, she lost count of the times she wore a saree prior to the day when she started counting. Just then Mrs Dolly Sachdeva, Tania's ever enthusiastic mother walked in the room and said, "Tania, are you ready yet? They have turned up." "Come out when I send in Anya." This time also Tania nodded her head and looked at herself in the mirror.  She was looking beautiful, infact she was glowing.  Tania was an MBA from a reputed University and was working with a NGO which looked after children with special needs. Tania's thoughts went to the day when she sat for the interview when Mr. Richards remarked, "Tania, you are an epitome of kindness and talent." "Congratulations, you are hired!" Tania's heart knew no bounds, she wanted to shout out loud and clear. She wanted to answer those who had judg

Tannu sat in front of the large oval mirror in her bedroom carassing her long Auburn tresses. She just finished applying the hair serum given by the hair stylist. As she looked at herself she started wondering, "Should I curl it up or straighten it?" Confused about her hair, Tannu took out the purplish pink orchid flower from one of the boxes in her drawer, she opened the hairclip and then partitioned her hair and put it just behind her right earlobes. She was happy, she looked ravishingly beautiful. The lilac colour gown was enhancing her beauty. She quickly started giving last minute touches to her make-up, no she didn't need professional help as she mastered the trade herself.   Make-up and hair styling over Tannu switched on the AC and sat comfortably on the recliner. "Gosh! I am so nervous already" she said. "I just wonder how Saurav must be looking." she muttered with a wink in her eye.  Quickly Tannu took the phone lying on the bed and started s

Anshula, Anshula, Ni evite anu?" (Where are you?) shouted Nalla to his wife Anshu without even looking up from his newspaper. He was engrossed reading the Malayala Manorama, an activity he has been doing over the past 40 years. For Nalla, the Manorama has been an inseparable partner ever since he returned back from Dubai, so much so that he forgets that time passes by and he has important work lined up daily. This activity irritates his wife as she considers the newspaper to be the other woman in her husband's life.  Hearing her husband shout, Anshu came outside quickly from the kitchen rubbing her hands on the end of the setthu mundu she was wearing. Seeing her husband minutely reading the newspaper and completely ignoring her presence in the balcony, she screamed, "Why did you call me?" Nallasivan Nair looked up at his wife Anshula's face with a worried expression. Anshula immediately felt something was wrong and quietly came and sat on the chair placed opposit

Rishi was quite happy. He was beaming with joy as he looked at the photograph of his beloved Saniya. She just had the spark to make any male fall in love, indeed she was beautiful; well that was what he felt, though she didn't consider herself as beautiful as he praised her often. She was not only in possession of a beautiful physical appearance but her thoughts and mind too was an harbinger of happiness.  It was just three more days and he would finally get to meet her on Wednesday. Rishi excitedly opened his wardrobe and picked up the t-shirts and trousers. He thoughtfully picked up the colours she loved to see him in - mustard yellow, olive green, maroon, blue. After all he wanted to look dashingly handsome in front of her. She had always praised his looks and it would be the best time to make her fall in love with him all over again.  Rishi's reminder started beaming, oh he has an appointment at GenNext Spa at 5pm today. He quickly took his car keys and rushed to the parkin

"Bring them out or else we will be forced to break the door" shouted Sub- Inspector Anand to Sukhram; Mukesh's father.  To tell you briefly what happened two days back - Mukesh got married. Well not exactly the way he wanted, he brought Nisha  with him after a simple marriage ceremony. Nothing was amiss if we look at the vital statistics: both were of marriageable age, families had the consent for marriage, boy had a handsome salary even though he wasn't handsome at all, the girl was beautiful, homely and sanskari (cultured). On top of that the bride's father Banwari Lal already paid fifteen lakhs as dahej  (dowry) to the groom's family. The remaining five lakhs would be paid during the marriage ceremony. But why did the police appear at the gates? Mukesh's marriage was on the cards with Nisha. The marriage was an arranged one and fixed by both the families in the month of April; 17th April, 2020 (Friday) to be specific. But it didn't take place due to

Sunil looked at his rickshaw. The steel frame was still shining. He gently touched the seats and rubbed the dust which accumulated the whole day with his dry hands. Today morning he had wiped off the dust and cleaned his rickshaw with a wet cloth. As he reclined against the bamboo frame of his tiny hut in this big city Guwahati, he was completely lost in his own world. A world of his own which he built with tireless efforts was now falling apart.  Sunil panicked from within, what if it continued for a longer period of time. What would happen to his Punakon and Sanehi?  Sunil fondly remembered the day when he brought the rickshaw home two months back. Sanehi had applied vermillon dots on it and did a small aarti. Later, that night the three of them had a feast celebrating Sunil's first big achievement.  Sunil knew very well that he could own the rickshaw because of Sanehi; she stood behind him rockstrong and guided him in every move of his life. She was instrumental in saving enough

It's been a month and five more days!  Husnahara's pale yellow eyes were looking outside expectedly. She looked at the overwhelming blue sky from amidst the torn plastic covering of her house. She was lost in her own world. The sky looked beautiful with shreds of white clouds, only if she had the wings to encompass the sky and fly around.  The announcement was made yesterday. Yes, that was what she heard. She was hopeful something good would happen today.  Since morning Husnahara remained busy, she scrubbed the already clean degchi  (saucepan for cooking rice grains) washed it with care and filled water in it. She then mixed some cowdung, mud and water and rubbed the chulha (fireplace). Work done she rushed to the tubewell and took a quick bath, lest they arrived and she became late.  She took out an almost new sari and wore it with care. Hasnahara had received it during Eid from one of her employers. She also kept the empty cement bag ready. She then took out the palm size mir