My Literary Indulgences...

So, it’s the weekend again, and here I am with a new post. However this time, it’s not going to be eloquent poetry, or an absorbing story. It’s going to be an attempt at a very charming, a very personal narrative about this absolutely adorable little girl, who’s both my Nemo and Dory (for those of you who got the Finding Nemo reference from the title). So let’s get started from the top! Born and brought up in a small town, experiencing cities only as a tourist or as an audience at the theatres, I had an inferiority complex when it came to city folk. So in college when our paths crossed for the first time, I could just tell that she was a city girl. Soon enough my doubts were confirmed as I came to know she’s from Mumbai! No wonder she chatted incessantly in English! And yes, laugh though you may, it’s still kind of a big deal (a snobbish deal actually) if you converse fluently and exclusively in English, back where I come from! So there I was, introvert, unsocial at best, overtly...

The sky was a pastel blue, as he woke up to a diffused sunrise. Out on the street, muted glows from the ovens fought to wrestle it away from the clutches of a charcoal night. Another day began in an anemic existence, where he'd trudge on to the factory and take over the wax molding from the night shifters. White hot wax in, cold white candle out. Wax in, candle out. In, out. And so the day would fade away. Come sundown, the pallid soul would find itself in the shop adjoined, selling the produce. Then at twilight, he'd close shop, drop the keys into the fair, pudgy hands of his bourgeoisie master and slink back to his dreary quarters for the night. But before you shower him with your pity, know this that he was at peace with this existence and liked it just so – bleached. In fact, he abhorred the opulent life, bursting at seams with pageantry of colors, which was everyone's pursuit. Then came an evening, when the onslaught of night was decimating the wee twilight, a da...