The Split 3

Check out Part 1 and Part 2 before you read this:

Shruti walks briskly avoiding the traffic in the bustling market place. She is out to buy Lotus flowers, Tulsi leaves and Coconuts for the Ganesh Pooja next day. The Ganesh Mandal in the market is practicing their Dhol and Tasha routine with full fervor and Shruti can feel the vibrations of the pounding Dhol. She quickly finishes her shopping and hails an autorickshaw to take her home. At the traffic light the autorickshaw comes to a halt. As the driver waits for the light to turn Green, Shruti spots a familiar figure in the adjacent car. She does not recognize the car or the woman sitting next to Vikas. Shruti watches the woman talk animatedly and the way Vikas smiles at her as he replies. They are both engrossed in their conversation and don't see her. 

Shruti leans back in her seat quickly so that Vikas does not spot her. Her heart is pounding and her mind is in a whirl. "Who is that woman?" and "Why is Vikas with her?" are the two questions that keep hounding her. She wonders of the relationship the two share, are they friends or something more than friends? Is Vikas having an affair with the strange woman, she wonders. 

The past few months have been exceptionally difficult for Shruti and Vikas. The miscarriage has put a strain on their marriage to such an extent, that she is not sure whether Vikas even loves her now. They do share a bed but were more like strangers travelling together in the same train compartment. 

Shruti quickly wipes the tears that have sprung up, as the autorickshaw comes to a halt in front of her apartment complex. She enters an empty flat carrying the bags, Radhabai has gone to her hometown for Ganesh Chaturthi. Shruti's mind does not stop wondering about the woman and Vikas. She can clearly remember his smile and the way he had looked at the strange woman. She is not able to remember the last time Vikas had made her laugh like that. The now familiar sense of depression blankets her emotions and Shruti starts crying in despair. As the evening draws near, Shruti curls up into a ball on the kitchen floor sobbing uncontrollably. The darkness envelopes her and she is sucked deeper into the void. 

When Shruti opens her eyes, the harsh lights make her wince. The antiseptic smell pervades her nose. Her whole body is throbbing and her left hand feels as if it is on fire.  She looks towards it and slowly comes to the realization that she is lying in a hospital bed with a saline drip and a bandaged hand. She can see Vikas sitting with his head in his hands and then with a jolt she remembers the kitchen knife and the blood dripping from her hand.

She calls out to Vikas, he looks up to her with tears in his eyes. He comes to her and holds her hand. She looks into his eyes and can see his pain and sorrow. They both start weeping together for their stillborn child. They weep for what they had lost and for the life they had wanted together.


Image courtesy: Google

The Split 2

Shruti's reverie was broken as Vikas walked in the kitchen and picked up his cup of tea and sat in front of the television, to watch a Cricket match. She sat at the dining table with her tea wondering when things had changed so much. She had started noticing his long absences just a month back. He was in the shower every morning or getting dressed by the time she got up. Most days he rushed out of the house without eating any breakfast and came late at night, after she was already in bed. On the face of it everything appeared normal and anyone who knew them would not find anything different about them either. 

Shruti knew that something had changed imperceptibly between her and Vikas after the miscarriage. It was as if an invisible barrier had grown between them. Their conversations had become cursory and whenever they did talk, it was about mundane everyday things. Many times the silence between them was so thick that she felt she could cut it with a knife. 

Every morning as Shruti lay in bed watching the sun rays quietly enter the room, she could still smell the distinct scent of Vikas's Old Spice aftershave. The smell that evoked memories of so many mornings of tangled bed covers and lying in bed in his arms. The passion of his touch and his warm breath stroking her cheeks. Shruti looked over at the impression in the bed, where Vikas slept and thought of him longingly. Vikas had moved to sleeping in the guest bedroom so as not to disturb her, when he got up early, to go to work. 

The yawning distance between them had slowly grown over time, as Shruti had withdrawn from everyone after the miscarriage. The loss of the baby had been devastating, especially since she had come to know that she had very little chance of ever getting pregnant again. It was a miracle that she had been pregnant in the first place. Vikas had been like a rock, standing next to her through the ordeal. He had been patient and understanding with her. He tried to cheer her up by making dinner and movie plans so that she would start getting back to her old self. 

Shruti avoided his touch and feigned tiredness every time Vikas tried to become intimate. Not that she had stopped loving Vikas, it was that every time Vikas came close to her, she felt ashamed of her body. Her body, which had deceived her into thinking that she could give life. She felt as if she had cheated him out of becoming a father, something which he had wanted so strongly. The futility of it all, washed over her and made her push him away. And so the distance had grown, both she and Vikas were like two ships passing each other in the storm. As Vikas spent more and more time away from home, Shruti became even more lonely. 

The next part will follow shortly...

Click here to read the first part of "The Split".

The Split

Part 1

I am making the filling for Ukdiche Modak, a sweet made as an offering to Lord Ganesha on Ganesh Chaturthi, a festival celebrated by Maharashtrians all over the world. One needs to use deft fingers to mold the hot rice paste into domes, filling it with the sugar and coconut mixture. My hands are moving with practiced dexterity as my mind moves unfettered to places in the dark recesses of my mind, when my thoughts are broken by the door bell. 

Radha bai opens the door and says 'Tai, saheb aale' (madam, your husband is home). Vikas walks in with his laptop bag and picks up the mail lying on the coffee table. He looks tired and had hardly been home these days. His excuse is "there is too much work at the office". Without giving a glance in my direction, he drops his bag on the sofa and goes to the bathroom to wash his face. Radha bai puts a vessel on the gas stove to make tea for us. 

I had hired Radha bai to work with us full time, six months back, in anticipation of the baby's arrival. What with keeping awake late nights for feeds and diaper changes, I knew I would not be able to handle the baby and the house all alone.  My mother had passed away when I was in college and I was the only child. I had no one from my family to help me take care of the baby. Vikas's father did not keep good health so my mother in law already had her hands full. Radhabai had taken care of many small babies in other houses. She knew how to bathe and give oil massage to the baby. 

As I smell the tea and the ginger, I touch my flat belly and remember that unfortunate day, when my world came crashing down. The unnatural cramps in my abdomen and a visit to the bathroom was all it took for me to realize something was terribly wrong. As Ritu, my next door neighbor took me to the Gynecologist, I knew deep in my heart that I had lost the baby. The days after the miscarriage are so hazy in my mind. They seem distant and at the same time so close..the memory of those days still leaves me breathless. 

Both Vikas and I had been ecstatic when we got to know that I was pregnant. Ours was a love marriage and even before we were married we knew we wanted children. There was the usual flurry of doctor's appointments and reading baby books in the first few months. Friends who were parents chipped in with their own advice. We started decorating the guest bedroom and turned it into a nursery. Tiny baby clothes and booties made my heart burst with happiness. 

To read the next part, click here.

Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Some bit of drivel and other wow moments

I know, I have been blogging sporadically and not visiting other blogs. The dwindling comments on my previous posts are a testimony for this erratic behavior. Okay... I have to admit, I have been plain lazy, distracted and having quite bit of fun. 

What when the elder sis comes to India, with my adorable niece and nephew (twins). Life just came to a standstill, for me, when I went to my hometown and met these munchkins. I had forgotten what fun it was to be a child and to draw and color and play hide and seek. Among numerous rounds of playing UNO and putting mehendi on tiny chubby hands...time just flew by. Sticky kisses and the sound of "minnie mousie" (that is what they call me) is what I miss the most now. Going on shopping trips to our old college day haunts and new malls with sis darling consumed my time.

It is been good two weeks since I am back home, but I am just not able to shake off the hangover of those two marvelous weeks. Doing bucket loads of laundry and dusting the house was how I was jolted back to reality. 

Life fell back to the old rhythm, work poured in and consumed some part of my life. I saw some god awful movies like "Once upon a time in Mumbai- Dobara" (more on that in a later post) and somewhat bearable "Chennai express". SRK needs to start doing character roles pronto...he looks plain old.

Then came the Indiblogeshwaris (this is a group on Facebook exclusively for women bloggers)  meet. Earlier,I had plans to join the gang in Lonavala the next day. But fate intervened and I landed meeting up the merry gang of women at a popular restaurant in amchi Mumbai. 

The next day a gang of chatty and absolutely fun women loaded themselves in a car and off we went to Lonavala for a short break. The outing was just what the doctor ordered, refreshing and rejuvenating. I got to know this mad gang of women who know how to laugh and have the time of their lives. I am glad I chose to go.

The weather was perfect and all around you could see the entire valley was looking like a beautiful bride, decked in Green, which is the auspicious color of prosperity.

Leaving you with some misty shots of Lonavala.

Winner of Caption Contest 26 "You think you are funny?"

Here is the winner of the Caption Contest 26  ‘You think you are funny?’  
This time I have received couple of comments on my Linkedin Page and the winning Caption is from 

Mujib Ahmed Khan : Cleanliness Drive...!!!

Congratulations!!!

Drop me a mail at and I will mail you the trophy.

Hope to see you in another round of Caption Contest this Wednesday.

Caption Contest 26 "You think you are funny?"

This is Caption Contest 26 'You think you are funny?

Please give a funny caption to the picture below.

Picture Courtesy: Google

All the Best. 

P.S: For those people who would like to know the rules, please check here.