Candlelight and chill

Its a perfect night for a ghost story. Balmy wind, candle light and a chill down the spine. She got up and walked to the balcony. The chill made her pull her shawl closer. She looked down at the transformer room where electricians were working to fix the connections. She saw someone standing at the balcony next door. Surprise! The flat has been closed for months! Eversince she had moved in. Did someone move in? The lady had flowing, flyaway hair and seemed to be enjoying the solitude like her. -I must go sometimes and ask if she requires anything! Life in a city is strange, people dont know each other, people arent bothered,everyone has their agenda....so unlike the small town where she lived in a family of parents and grandparents and where people lived in each others lives more than their own. And dark evenings like these meant tea, fritters and her grandfather's ghost stories. She looked up to find the neighbour gone and the lights restored. The doorbell rang loudly. The caretaker was at the door asking if everything was working fine now that the lights are back - Ahh yes! Let me check. She came back and said all was okay. - By the way , who is staying in the flat next door? The caretaker looked surprised. - No one! Its been locked since years. The lady who stayed there just jumped out of the balcony on an evening like this when the transformer had caught fire! - Oh but I saw someone! - Well no one knows if it was suicide or murder! And no one lives there! Sometimes you find your story just like that. This time actually the chill ran down her spine!

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Being an eagle mum!

I always told this story to my trainees. About being the Eagle mum. An eagle mum prepares the nest in two layers, first downy feathers and below that,the thorns. When it is time to fly she removes the downy feathers so that the fledglings who refuse to fly fall on the thorns and that makes them flap n fly away! Bhaskar always calls is cruelty, the bojjat mommy! But to me its a way to push one out of the comfort zone, for the world waits beyond! My kiddos moved out to their own place today. And despite being an eagle mum, I kind of miss the chatter. I knew in my heart I would miss having them around... But they need to find their wings!

Spirit!

It was a moonlit night and quiet. Just the sort when you imagine leaves rustling, someone walking top toe ... But there was no sound except an owl hooting from far away. The silence, after the city noise was unnatural. And she heard someone calling her name in a whisper! Startled she looked around. The door was closed, so who could be there? The candle flickered and a whiff of cold air entered the room. Was someone outside the window? Or is it shadow. She flashed the mobile torch in that direction! The owl hooted. Someone was banging the door! - Memsaaab! memsaab. Dinner lag gaya. A jaiye! She jumped up! The lights were on! Selected ghost stories was opened next to her and she had dozed off! Relief. She opened the door. - Aiye memsaab! Par aapke room me koi aya tha? Dekhite joote ki nishani. Indeed dusty shoe marks on the mat! But do ghosts wear shoes?

The road may be narrow and dark

This write up came back with a note of regret – for not being able to make to the next round in the competition, to the editor's table. Well, this is the first time I competed , that is if I do not count the House Competition essay writing, where I came second after Champa. Actually I do not why I took part – chance, curiosity or plain gambling …..because writing for me has always been a catharsis – an expression that I can share …..So no regrets , really! The road may be narrow and dark…….. It was 1983 and life with Baba always veered on the unexpected and the adventurous. Like that road trip from Kolkata to Delhi via Agra. We had this faithful Ambassador that took us on this journey with Baba at the helm and our cleaner Kalipada as his first assistant. I was the official navigator and Giri uncle, my father’s friend, in charge of our ummm, let’s say security, since me and my cousin Dimpi, both all of 18, needed an escort , officially. Baba always liked the un-tr

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