Archive for the ‘My ‘NaNoWriMo’ Novel’ Category

Perfect, how she abhorred that word. “Come on, let’s leave or we will miss the Ladies Special,” Leela shouted from the next room. Aparna exactly followed her visualized scenario, locked the door and joined Leela. With muscles properly trained to not miss the over-packed 12 compartment Only Ladies train, they rushed. A proper seven minute walk to the platform was interspersed with cutting the crowd and overtaking the jay walkers.  The next couple of minutes passed with every glance at the indicator clock and a sprinkling look for mischief-makers who can jostle you. And angry stares do not frighten the fairer sex. The best moments are the last seven seconds as the train halts and the constant pushing helps to take that leap in the train.

Aparna relaxed herself and sat opposite Leela. “Lucky for me, got the seat at least,” she thought adjusting her dupatta.

(to be contd…)


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The minute hand of the small alarm clock had just perfectly coincided with the number 6. Thirty minutes to go and she could already visualize slinging her bag across the shoulder, eyeing her table to not leave behind anything and finally, switching off the lights. The loud clatter of the steel glass as Ghanshyam dropped it on the floor, apparently by mistake, jolted her vision back to the alarm clock. It was still 5.30 in the evening.

Inheriting the legacy of sleepy legs, she gets up to stretch her muscles a bit. The creepy, crawling invisible ants have always given her ticklish problems. Right from school days when the three-hour semester test bound her to the smooth wooden desk to the college exams. Particularly she remembers the Yoga lecture given by her nemesis – the Principal.

After hours of sitting in the Padmasana posture, she once limped back to the class. Her embarrassed eyes flitted right and left, avoiding direct contact. While her mind’s eye concentrated hard to dismiss the burning gaze of the Principal, watching her seated in his lotus position.

“Aparna, take a look at these paintings drawn by Minti. Aren’t they simply gorgeous?” Leela came and thrust the scribbled papers under her nose. Well they were not exactly scribbles. There was a family portrait with a huge area devoted to the television screen. Another painting was of the festival of lights – Diwali. With holidays nearby, this was a favourite topic with the drawing teachers.

Nodding her head Aparna murmured, “She is quite the artist! Her colouring inside the lines is precise.” Leela beamed with pride. She loved to share her 9-year old’s drawing prowess with Aparna. Her kind words served as an encouragement in the monochromatic life, she shared with her estranged husband.

Minti’s colouring shades always amused Aparna. Her orange t-shirt over yellow trousers figure, probably her dad, didn’t quite compliment her mother’s garish pink and purple sari. Yet more than those unconscious hues, Aparna amused herself with how much unlearning Minti will have to do. Today she praised her in-the-line drawing but tomorrow the world will ask for out-of-the box thinking. Her mismatch of colours so endearing on paper will be termed a horror of sorts in the fashion world. And at all such times, the only quote that suits is the one she oft-reads on the t-shirts of passer-bys. Written in the amalgamation of all colours, white on a background of vibrant blues, greens, yellows, reds and plain black it reads – I was Born Perfect, Education ruined Me.


(to be contd…)

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