Treasure pressure

He was watching every move of hers. She kept talking as she moved around the kitchen, opening jars and closing them. He had managed to keep every pot, pan and jar at just the wrong place. Unwashed vessels lay in a heap in the sink. On the granite slab, there was clear evidence of a sticky something having been spilt and wiped off clumsily. The kitchen was a mess. “How does he manage this?” she couldn’t help wondering.



Theirs was a typical middle class house of the 1970s, with a not too sophisticated kitchen and a neat little vegetable garden behind the kitchen. Sun rays streamed through the window and there was a gentle breeze blowing.



Mrs. Rati Kapoor was back after a short stay at her sister’s place. She had planned to return on Monday but was back a day earlier because there were no tickets available for the Sunday evening's train. She was now in the process of taking the kitchen from the chaotic state that it was in to a state of normalcy and simultaneously making a pepper rasam. She kept glancing accusingly at her husband who stood at the door way leading to the vegetable garden. He had offered to plant the saplings that she had brought from her sister’s garden.

“ Is it too difficult for you to place a jar back in the place that you take it from?. What’s the difficulty in doing that, may I know please?”. She paused to look around and continued “How can any body cook in the middle of all this mess???”

The 70 year old man stood there with eyes slightly lowered and firmly set on some object at the other end of the wall.

“You’ve managed to set a record my dear. You’ve successfully messed the kitchen up every time I’m away, since the time we got married”

He still said nothing. This was so unlike him. For one thing, he wouldn’t keep standing here like this. He would be too busy with his eyes and mind glued to the newspaper or the television, to bother about what she had to say. Even if he did listen to her, he would just say “I haven’t committed some crime for God’s sake. So stop cribbing and let me live in peace will you?”

Rati was amazed. He hasn’t said a word.



She had more or less set things right. The peppery fragrance of the rasam filled the air. She was about to move out of the kitchen when she suddenly noticed that one of the jars had no lid on. She couldn’t find it anywhere around. She bend down to see if it was somewhere underneath. He started wiggling his muddy hands uneasily. Before she could take a proper look, there was a sharp pain in her ailing back and she straightened herself quickly.

“I wouldn’t be complaining if I had the stamina to clean things up.” she said with a deep sigh.

“ I wish you would understand. I’m old and tired too”



He still stood there with his eyes lowered. The silence seemed to last for ever. Mrs. Rati stood with one hand on her aching back. He felt sorry for her. Suddenly, the telephone started ringing. Sunil Kapoor stood there with his hands still muddy and with no intention of moving. Rati nodded her head in disapproval and slowly walked out of the kitchen.

Sunil could hear her excited voice responding to her friend and neighbor Mrs. Sharma. He heaved a sigh of relief. This conversation can never last for anything lesser than half an hour, at the 'least'. He smiled to himself. He slowly washed the mud off his hands.

He had got back after his morning walk and was shocked to see Rathi waiting outside when he got back. He was sufficiently health conscious, but she was immensely so- especially if it is his health, at stake. She had been pleased to see him up and about so early. “Oh my gosh! What will I do now?” he had thought.



He wiped his hands in the blue towel hanging near the sink and walked towards the row of jars on the other end of the kitchen. His eyes lowered (again) looking at something in the bottommost shelf. Once there, he slowly bend down and picked up a plate. The missing lid had been placed on top of the plate, concealing something. He lifted the plate with care, and sat comfortably on the little stool. He removed the lid and looked fondly at the ladoo which started rolling on the plate.

He had successfully saved his little treasure. He has had to give up eating sweets since the time he was diagnosed with diabetes a few years back and Rati was too particular about it. With medication, having a piece of sweet once a week was ok- the doctor had told so. He had bought this ladoo last evening with hopes of having it this morning and as luck might have it Rati had got back just on time to make this difficult.



He could hear her laughing. She was still on the phone. He smiled as he picked up the ladoo and slowly sunk his teeth in.

Sweet Success

Life has taught me time and again that it simply isn’t a cake walk. I re-learnt this lesson once again last weekend.

Too many things happened in a span of 48 hours and I definitely don’t intend to bug you with all the details of how I got scorched in the sun, got garnished with dust ‘n smoke and felt like a cave gal.

If you wondering what I was up to- no, I wasn’t working in some quarry, in pursuit of adventure. I would rather curl up on the couch than go in for any such tedious adventure, if you know me well. I was actually out on a house hunt.



After getting to Bangalore, I had meticulously planned to spend the 1st one week at a guest house and find a house for myself over the weekend. It went on pretty well till Friday, excepting for the smell of something burning and an ugly, big hole in my pocket. The real ‘fun’ started on Saturday.

I was up early, bright and beaming, like a second sun. I was gonna rent a house all by myself for the 1st time and felt very grown up. I had a sandwich and some orange juice for breakfast, all the while dreaming about the kind of house that I would choose and how I would make MY OWN sandwich and orange juice in MY kitchen. I put on my red Adidas cap, thrust the city map that I had bought the previous evening into my pocket and was all set to leave by 8am. The show started giving clear indications of moving towards being a glorious flop when the real–estate broker did not turn up till 8.30am. He wasn’t going to be there today. For whatever reason, he was gonna come the next day. He ‘promised’.



Very soon, I found myself straying the roads of Koramangala with one of those yellow colored ad papers in one hand and my mobile in the other. The main roads in Koramangala were not the least bit like the lanes inside. The lanes didn’t show any trace of sophistication what so ever and were perfect gullies. I checked out some of the weirdest and funniest dwellings in the city that afternoon. All of them were considerably huge. One of the houses opened straight into the bedroom and had a succession of rooms, all in a straight line, one after the other. In another one, every guest of yours, who crosses the threshold of your house, will have to pass through the kitchen before he/she can get to the drawing room. The highlight was a house with a loo attached to the kitchen (Is this a GIGO concept or what? for God’s sake). I am not one of those secretive people who would keep my life completely out of reach from my kith and kin ‘n am no celebrity, but taking every person at my door step straight into my kitchen or bed room is a bit too far fetched by any standards. Much more far fetched and unappetizing is the idea of having a loo inside my kitchen.



These challenges did not break my resolve to find a house by the end of the two days. I tried every source I could think of and people definitely were kind. Only that their kindness did not yield the desired result. The rest of the two days passed on with uncomfortable auto rides, attempting to filter out traces of oxygen somewhere amidst all the carbon monoxide, by holding a handkerchief over the nose and mouth, calling up friends, aunts, uncles, real-estate guys and distant cousins (I never even knew of the existence of some of these relatives till Saturday), munching something or the other for lunch, waiting for people on road sides and in restaurants and getting shocked by the layout of some of these house.

By 6.30 pm on Sunday, all the optimism had drained out of my system and I was kinda sure that I would have to continue staying in the same guest house for another week (at least) .To aim for something and to not be able to achieve it- gives you a pretty bad feeling.



I wasn’t gonna give up. I decided to keep looking till 9pm. Fortune favored me finally (Fortune does favor the brave, you know?!). I found a house to my liking by 8.30 or so- many thanks to a friend of mine.

I got back to the guest house at around 10pm, exhausted but triumphant. Life isn’t a cake walk and success doesn’t come easily (not always), but it’s the hardships involved that make it sweeter when it finally comes. I hit the bed at around 11pm with the sweet taste of success still lingering in my mind. I would soon be making sandwiches, orange juice and very many things in MY kitchen :D

Ruse x Truce

Nita’s face was red with rage. How could he do this to her?

Amit was engrossed in transferring his stack of shirts one after another, from his wardrobe to the suitcase which he had placed on the cot, close to where the closet stood.

He took out a pink shirt, the one she had spent about 2 hours to choose. It was neatly folded and pressed. He held it with care and stood there for a minute. Nita could see that he was trying to decide whether to take it or not. He finally placed it carefully back. He wasn’t going to take this one. He did not even want the shirt that she had picked for him, she thought.

Nita was sitting at one edge of the large wooden cot, diagonally opposite to where the suitcase was placed. She had a book on her lap. Her eyes appeared to be glued to the pages of the book, but her mind simply wouldn’t absorb or register anything from the page that was in front of her. ‘You’ve been betrayed’, her mind kept telling her. Nita kept track of every single move of his. Why had he married her? How on earth did she make the mistake of marrying a man who had no respect for her feelings? She wondered.

Amit disliked carrying too much baggage and always preferred to travel with as less as he could manage with. She knew that pretty well, but 1 suitcase was all that he had packed for a year's stay. This was too less by any standards. ‘Why should I tell him that? I really don’t care what he does’, she told herself.

Amit was whistling as he carelessly picked up his hair brush and dropped it into the suitcase. He was all set. He had just uttered those words and started packing. It had been so easy for him. He had not taken a second look at her to see how she reacted. ‘Why would he do that? Why would he want to know how she felt when he wasn’t the least bit concerned about it?’, Nita was fuming within.



They’ve been married for just 6 months and now he was prepared to leave to the US on an assignment for a year. They had already discussed it a week back and she had made it very clear that she wasn’t ok with the plan. It was a Saturday and they were on their way to visit one of his many aunts. She always admired the way he drove, with ease and confidence.

He was always quick, steady and silent…always, not just behind the wheels.

“I have a surprise for you” he had said with a smile. She was taken aback, for he was not the kind that gave gifts. He never has, not even for her birthday, the first one after they got married. “I’ve been chosen for an assignment. It would go on for a year and we could go together…”. He had suggested that she could take up a job there or just take a break for a year and get herself a job once they get back. She had listened to all that he had to say and had finally told him that this plan wasn’t workable. Why was he expecting her to let go off her job? After all her career is as important as his, she reasoned.

He parked the car close to the gate, in front of his Aunt’s sprawling house and said “If this isn’t ok, then there’s only one way out “ She didn’t bother to ask him what it was for it was clear to her that he was talking about forgoing this assignment. She could sense how much it meant to him and felt a pang of guilt. She shrugged it off and it was all forgotten.

This morning he had been to the office- Unusual for a Saturday. He was back at 12pm and had told her that he must start right away. He said that and had started packing.

Silence can sometimes be unbearable and that’s just how it was to Nita. Her whole life was falling apart. She cared so much for him but he really didn’t care about leaving her here for a year. She didn’t know that he had been preparing for the trip in spite of all that she had told him the other day. ‘Have I been too busy to notice?’, she wondered.

She threw the book away and walked to the drawing room. She switched on the television. She just didn’t want silence. Why was he always silent? Why can’t he just say something? He has always been this way, whether she was angry or sulky; cheerful or bored, he was always silent. She hated it the most.

It was time to make some firm decisions. If he didn’t care about her, and her presence or absence was of no consequence to him then it’s best to leave him alone, she thought. They should part ways. She decided that she would accompany him to the airport and would let him know what she thought.



He was behind the wheels. She still admired the way he drove and thought this might possibly be the last time she would be able to admire it. This trivial thought induced an avalanche of emotions within her. She just could not imagine a life sans Amit. She held back the tears that threatened to flow out any minute. He meant everything to her, but that didn’t matter because she meant nothing to him, she thought sadly. All her dreams of starting a family together, designing a house and building it…all the plans she had for their life together were just dreams and would soon be forgotten.

They were almost there. Amit was wondering what was going on in Nita’s mind. He knew her too well. She had always been impulsive and hasty, very quick at reaching conclusions. Aggressive and possessive to the core she always was. He would miss her and her endless chatter. He always preferred silence to noise but she was one noise he simply couldn’t do without now. He parked the car.

Amit turned to look at Nita. She was deep in thought and looked very serious. He stifled a smile and asked “What would you like me to get for you? ” .
..........
There was no response.

He placed his hand on her shoulder. She pushed it off.

“I don’t want anything. You don’t have to spend your hard earned money on some one who means nothing to you, besides, when have you bought me a gift?”

“What’s the matter with you Nitu? I didn’t realize that you care for gifts. Fine why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Amit, I’ve thought a lot and come to the conclusion that I’m not all that important to you. If you can do without me now, you can do without me for life.”

He tried to interrupt but she held out her hand, gesturing him to stop. She went on and on for a few minutes.

“I’ve never been important to you. I’ve always wanted you to spend time with me, but you’ve always had better things to do. You would rather watch a cricket match than talk to me. I’m used to getting gifts on occasions but you don’t care enough to give me any. It’s not a question of the monetary value of the gift; it’s the mere act of giving a gift that I value immensely. You simply don’t care. I’ve told you so much about my dreams for our life together. You’ve never had anything to say because you don’t love me enough to think of a life together…” she paused to catch her breath and continued.

“You now want to go on this trip and you pretty well know that I don’t want you to. If you can go this far and stay away for this long then we might as well stay apart for the rest of our lives”. She stopped and looked straight into his eyes. Her eyes were brimming with tears but she was too proud to cry now.

Amit couldn’t hold himself from laughing any longer. Amidst ripples of laughter he pulled Nita to him and gave her a kiss.

“Nitu, why would you choose to leave me just because I’m going on a trip to Pune for 10 days?”

She couldn’t believe her ears. What was he saying now? As they walked towards the airport, he explained.

“If not that one, I simply had to accept this assignment and that’s what I meant when I said that there’s only 1 other way out, the other day…..remember? You weren’t happy with the surprise I gave you the other day, so I decided to give you an interesting surprise this time. So, how did you like this one?” He was laughing again.



Nita playfully slapped him on his back and quivered “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Well, you didn’t bother to ask me what it was when I told you that there was only 1 other way….did you?” He ruffled her hair as he always did when he thought he had convinced her about something and held her close as they walked on together.

Sky is the lower limit

Do you know my lass
what man once thought?
He thought theres a place where
The earth touches the sky.
He craved to find out where
And rode on and on until one day
It dawned on him that
This is a horizon

It may seem a vain mission to you.
Contemplate my lass!
Had he not chased that line which marked the end of land
And the beginning of skies, would he have known that
The earth is a sphere?



Destiny paints definite pictures.
Every cause has an effect and
Every mission undertaken purposefully is rewarded with victory.
Fear not of what might be behind;
Fear not of what tomorrow holds;

Dare my gal, dare to dream;
And chase your dreams.
Get yourself addicted to success;
The day isn’t far when you would be
Living your dreams and making new ones.

Never let the fire in your heart die down, come what may
Sand storms or snow fall; rain or shine.
Let the fire always BE!

The Present

Theres this adage- ‘Life is like an ice cream. Eat it before it melts’



I strongly concur with this. There is just 1 life and we would better make the most of it. The present is a present, a gift given to us. The past would have left behind some very pleasant memories had we dealt with every moment in the past the right way. If we do the right things now, future wouldn’t be a disaster- at least not because of us.

The best course of action is to keep the lessons learnt from past experiences in mind, with some foresight and some planning for the future, act on what ever needs to be acted upon at present.

This is what The Present by Spencer Johnson is all about. It’s thoroughly engaging and is all about how a lad who indefatigably attempts to identify what the ‘hidden’ present is and finally succeeds after he grows into manhood.



The content of this book is doubtlessly the key to success, for, without the application of one’s mind, there isn’t any scope for development. The mind that wanders around in the woods, valleys and deserts of the past with dreams and nightmares about the future will never be able to stay focused.

There’s nothing new. Some facts which every human mind is very much aware of but unconsciously ignores are captured and presented brilliantly. It’s a Present colorfully wrapped in a story and is definitely worth every penny you dish out for it. Do read!



If you look at the past, present and future as these 3 little angles - The Present is nestled between the past and the future. It is fast asleep, just as our minds generally are to the present. The past and the future are alert and awake- the way they are in our minds.

The past tries to arouse the present- It is from the past that the present gets thoughts, ideas and the context itself. The future looks on with curious eyes to see how the present would react ‘cos it heavily depends on the present. So, are you all set to unwrap and work on the most precious present?

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
~Anais Nin