Posts Tagged ‘aundh’

From Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve – THE GIRL WHO DUMPED ME – A Love Story

May 11, 2012

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: THE GIRL WHO DUMPED ME – A Love Story.

Click the link above to read the story in my journal

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INNOCENT VICTIM – A Divorce Story with a Difference by Vikram Karve

May 8, 2011

INNOCENT VICTIM.

INNOCENT VICTIM

Dear Reader: Have you read my latest book COCKTAIL – a collection of 27 short stories about relationships? 
 
If you haven’t please click the link below and order a copy:
 
 
In COCKTAIL there is a story called A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A DIVORCED MAN. This story highlights the negative aspects of divorce on relationships, especially the adverse effect divorce has on children who are supposed to be innocent victims in divorce situations and who suffer for no fault of their own. 
 
Are children really innocent victims and do they actually suffer when their parents divorce? 
 
Well, here is a divorce story from a different perspective — a “happy ending” divorce story where the child is certainly not an “innocent victim” of a divorce situation 
Read on and tell me if you like this story:
“INNOCENT VICTIM”
A Divorce Story with a Difference
Short Fiction
By
VIKRAM KARVE

I am going to tell you about a very intriguing conversation I had with a naughty boy while travelling from Mumbai to Pune on the Deccan Queen last evening.

As I walk towards my seat in the Ladies’ Coach of the Deccan Queen I find a smart boy sitting on my window seat talking to a handsome man sitting on the seat beside him.

“Excuse me,” I say to the man, “this is the ladies’ compartment…”

Before the man can answer, the boy says, “I’m only seven…below 12…I can travel in the ladies compartment…”

“Don’t be rude, Rohan,” the man admonishes the boy, and then he rises from the seat, moves into the aisle, making way for me, and says, “Sorry, Ma’am, I am getting off, I just came to see off my son…is it okay if he sits in the window seat…”

“It is okay,” I say and sit down next to the boy, on the seat by the aisle.

“Actually I was waiting for you to come,” the man says.

“Me…?” I ask, flabbergasted, wondering whether tha man is trying to flirt with me.

“My son…he’s travelling alone…”

“I always travel alone…” the boy interjects.

“Of course, you are a big boy now aren’t you…?” the father says lovingly to his son, then turns towards me and says, “His mother will come to receive him in Pune…I’ve SMSed the coach and seat number to her…and Rohan’s got his cell-phone too…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your son and deliver him safely to his mother,” I assure the man, not wanting to talk to him too much.

“Thanks,” the man says to me, then turns to his son and says affectionately, “Give me a call when you reach…and come next weekend…”

“Of course Papa. I’ll be here to meet you next weekend on Saturday morning…you be here to get me off the Deccan Queen…I’ve got three days holidays…we’ll go off somewhere on an adventure trip…”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll do the bookings…” the man’s words are suddenly interrupted by the guard’s whistle and the train starts moving.

“Bye, Papa,” the boy jumps across me, hugs his father who bends down, kisses his son on the cheek, disengages and quickly moves to the exit, turning once to wave out to his son. The train gradually picks up speed.

Rohan sits down in his seat, takes out his fancy mobile phone, and a pair of earplugs.

My curiosity gets the better of my discretion and I ask the boy, “That’s a real good mobile phone.”

“Yes. It’s cool…the latest…it’s got everything…touch screen…music…internet…”

“Your father gave it to you?”

“Yes. Papa gets me the best…”

“And your mother…”

“Oh, Mama is too good…she loves me so much…takes so much care of me… lets me do whatever I want…oh…before you ask I should tell you…Papa and Mama are divorced…”

“Oh dear, I am so sorry…”

“No. No. It’s okay…I am happy they are divorced…”

“You are happy your parents are divorced…?” I ask aghast, totally astonished and incredulous.

“Yes…for me it is better this way…you know my Mama and Papa now have to share me…they have divided me between them…during the week I stay with Mama in Pune…and I spend the weekends with Papa in Mumbai…”

“But wasn’t it better when you all lived together as one family…?” I ask.

“It was terrible…when we lived together they were just not bothered about me….Mama and Papa were so busy with their office and work and parties and travelling and everything…they just had no time for me…and whatever little time we were together they kept fighting…”

“And now…?”

“After they split my life is just too good…!” the boy says.

“Too good…?” I interrupt, taken aback.

“Yes…after their divorce my life has become real good…I like it this way…now they care for me so much…they never scold me now like they used to before…now both my Mama and Papa pamper me so much…just imagine…I had two birthday parties this year…one by Mama at Pune and one by Papa in Mumbai…”

“Really…? You had two birthday parties…?”

Yes…and now they let me do whatever I want…give me so much time…and presents…they give me whatever I want…they even give me whatever I don’t want…”

“They give you whatever you don’t want…?”

“Now see, Papa has given me this fantastic mobile phone…now Mama will give me even a better one…or maybe some other groovy stuff…it’s like my Mama and Papa are in competition to make me happy…”

“That’s good…you are really lucky…”

“Oh, yes. I am very lucky…but it is funny isn’t it…?

“Funny…? What’s funny…?”

“About my Papa and Mama…when they were together they neglected me…and now they when live separated, they pamper me so much…so it is better isn’t it…that they are divorced… at least for me…”

I am still trying to analyze the uncanny truth in the young boy’s topsy-turvy logic.

What type of parenting is this? 
 
First you neglect your children when you are married together, and then, you spoil your kids to glory when you are separated divorced. 
 
Strange isn’t it? 
 
And I thought children were “innocent victims” in divorce situations…! 

Dear Reader: What do you think…?
VIKRAM KARVE 
Copyright © Vikram Karve 2011
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.  

Did you like this Story?
I am sure you will like the 27 stories in COCKTAIL
To order your COCKTAIL please click any of the links below:

About Vikram Karve 

A creative person with a zest for life, Vikram Karve is a retired Naval Officer turned full time writer. Educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale and Bishops School Pune, Vikram has published two books: COCKTAIL a collection of fiction short stories about relationships (2011) and APPETITE FOR A STROLL a book of Foodie Adventures(2008) and is currently working on his novel and a book of vignettes and short fiction. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories, creative non-fiction articles on a variety of topics including food, travel, philosophy, academics, technology, management, health, pet parenting, teaching stories and self help in magazines and published a large number of professional research papers in journals and edited in-house journals for many years, before the advent of blogging. Vikram has taught at a University as a Professor for almost 14 years and now teaches as a visiting faculty and devotes most of his time to creative writing. Vikram lives in Pune India with his family and muse – his pet dog Sherry with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts. 

Vikram Karve Academic and Creative Writing Journal: http://karvediat.blogspot.com
Professional Profile Vikram Karve: http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Vikram Karve Facebook Page:  https://www.facebook.com/vikramkarve
Vikram Karve Creative Writing Blog: http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/blog/posts.htm
Email: vikramkarve@sify.com          
Fiction Short Stories Book

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Vikram Karve : FOOD – HOW TO EAT IT

February 14, 2011

Vikram Karve : FOOD – HOW TO EAT IT.

 

FOOD – HOW TO EAT IT

THE ART OF EATING
By
VIKRAM KARVE

Are you in the habit of “grabbing a bite”…?

Do you ever eat in the office while continuing to work or just skip meals altogether…?
Do you multitask while eating…?
Do you have power breakfasts, working lunches and business dinners…?
Do you eat fast and hurriedly, finish meals well ahead of everyone else and eat in bigger bites without savoring the taste of food…?
Can you vividly recall the taste of all the dishes you ate during your last meal?

Do you eat when you eat…?
Do you want to master the Art of Eating and learn how to enjoy your food…?
Remember, there is no love greater than the love of eating – so read on, learn and try to master the Art of Eating…
Good food must be savored delicately; slowly, attentively and respectfully; in a befitting manner, with finesse and technique, with relish and appreciation and you will experience true gustatory delight.
That’s essence of the Art of Eating.
It is sacrilege to eat in a ravenous and rapacious manner.
Never eat when tired, angry, worried, tense, hurried, and at mealtimes refuse to think or talk about unpleasant subjects.
It is best to eat alone, mindfully, with yourself, in glorious solitude, in a calm, serene, conducive and unhurried environment.
If you must have company, you must always eat with friendly, relaxed and tranquil people who love food and whose company you enjoy; never eat with “toxic”, “harried” or “stressed-out” people or in a tense or hurried atmosphere.
If you want to do full justice to good food, you must build up an appetite for it – merely being hungry is not enough.
And the first step towards building up an appetite for good food is to think about it – simulated imaginative gustatory visualization to stimulate and prepare yourself for the sumptuous indulgence.
An important thing we were taught at boarding school was to read the menu and prepare for the meal by beginning to imagine relishing each and every dish, from soup to pudding, in our mind’s eye.
Remember: First plan your “eat” and then eat your “plan”.
It is true.
I eat my food twice.
First I “eat” in my mind’s eye – imagining, visualizing, “vicariously tasting”, fantasizing, strategizing on how I am going to savor and relish the dish to my utmost pleasure and satisfaction till my mouth waters and I desperately yearn to eat it.
And then I do the honours – actually go ahead and physically eat it and enjoy the delightful experience.
Eating is not a gustatory experience alone; it is visual and olfactory as well.
Food must look good, smell good, taste good and, most importantly, make you feel good.
The Art of Eating – a Holistic, Multidimensional experience, encompassing all domains of your inner being.
Eat in silence. Mindfully. With full awareness.
Savour the aroma, delicately place the food on your tongue, chew slowly and experience the variety of flavours as the permeate your taste buds, fully aware and sense the nourishment as the food dissolves and sinks deep within you.
Chew your food to a pulp or milky liquid until it practically swallows itself.
Never mix food and drink – alcohol dulls the taste buds, and olfactory sensation, and encumbers the unmitigated enjoyment of good food.
You must always close your eyes during the process of eating.
When you eat, you must eat; nothing else, no seeing, no hearing, no talking. No multitasking. That’s right – never multi-task while eating.
Just eat…Yes, when you eat just eat

Focus all your senses on your food, eat mindfully, meditatively, and you will attain a state of delightful bliss and happiness.
It is simple. Very simple.

Create a positive eating atmosphere, an environment of happy conducive vibes, honour your taste buds, respect your food and eat it in a proper state of mind, with love, zest, awareness and genuine appreciation and it will transport you to a state of bliss and happiness.

Remember: There is no love greater than the love of eating…
In a nutshell, this is the “Art of Eating“.
Dear Reader, long back I read a Teaching Story (Inspirational Tale), maybe it was a Zen or Tao Story, quoted by Thich Nhat Hanh, from where I derived my inspiration for The Art of Eating. I am giving you this teaching story in my own words below for you to read and reflect on, as I feel it is most apt here, in your quest to master the ART OF EATING:

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Spirituality, Meditation and Art of Living had become the “in thing”.

Courses on the Art of Living were proliferating all over and every one was rushing to attain instant happiness, inner peace, nirvana and bliss.

A wise old man, a teacher, living in the neighbourhood announced that he would teach instant Art of Living free of cost.

On the first day he drew a huge crowd.

“What do you all want to achieve?” the teacher asked the audience.

“Inner peace, tranquillity and true happiness,” everyone shouted in unison.

“For that you have to attain enlightenment.” the teacher said.

“How?” the audience asked.

“By practicing the Art of Living,” the teacher said.

“How do you practice the Art of Living? Please teach us,” the audience asked the teacher eagerly.

“It is simple – just eat and sleep,” the teacher said, “you can practise the art of living by eating and by sleeping.”

“What nonsense!” the astounded audience exclaimed.

“Yes,” said the teacher nonchalantly, “When Hungry, Eat; and When Tired, Sleep – that is the Art of Living”.

“Everybody does that!” shouted the audience.

“No. Everybody does not Eat when they Eat and everybody does not Sleep when they Sleep”, the teacher said calmly, “but when I eat, I only eat and when I sleep I only sleep. That is the Art of Living I practice – I live in the present moment fully focussed on whatever I am doing with full awareness.”


So, Dear Reader, Please Don’t GRAB THAT BITE – Remember: First plan your “eat” and then eat your “plan”.

All the Best…!
Happy Eating…!

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2010
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

VIKRAM KARVE educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale, and Bishop’s School Pune, is an Electronics and Communications Engineer by profession, a Human Resource Manager and Trainer by occupation, a Teacher by vocation, a Creative Writer by inclination and a Foodie by passion. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories and creative non-fiction articles in magazines and journals for many years before the advent of blogging. He has written a foodie book Appetite For A Stroll and a book of fiction short stories COCKTAIL which is being published soon and is currently busy writing his first novel. Vikram lives in Pune with his family and pet Doberman girl Sherry, with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.
Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.com
Professional Profile of Vikram Karve:
http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Creative Writing by Vikram Karve: http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/blog/posts.htm


http://shopping.sify.com/appetiteforastroll-vikram-karve/books/9788190690096.htm


Short Stories Book:

Cocktail – Short Stories about Relationships :

http://www.facebook.com/notes.php?pages#!/pages/Cocktail-by-Vikram-Karve-APK-Publishers/177873552253247


© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

Vikram Karve: SOCIAL NETWORKING – THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS

February 12, 2011

Vikram Karve: SOCIAL NETWORKING – THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS.

 
Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: SOCIAL NETWORKING – THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS

SOCIAL NETWORKING – THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS

CYBER SPACE and VIRTUAL REALITY

VIRTUAL REALITY
A Mulla Nasrudin Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
Thanks to the advent of the internet, now-a-days, we have the opportunity to live in two worlds, the real world and the virtual world, and have two identities, online and offline, maintain two lives, one in real space and one in cyberspace, and have two kinds of friends, even relationships, virtual and real, offline and online.
Internet is a great tool for social networking and it enables us to live two lives and enjoy the benefits of instant interaction and friendships across the globe and facilitates us to enjoy the best of both worlds.
It is good to have the best of both worlds, the real and the virtual, as long as you maintain a balance.

Here is one of my favourite Mulla Nasrudin stories which exemplifies this …

Mulla Nasrudin bought a beautiful house at a picturesque place far away from civilization high up in the hills.

From time to time he would suddenly pack his bags, leave the city, and go away to his house in the hills, disappearing for days, sometimes for weeks, sometimes for months.

And just as suddenly as he used to disappear, he used to unpredictably return back to the city, suddenly, without any warning or notice.

When asked the reason for his erratic and whimsical behaviour, Nasrudin explained: 

“I have kept a caretaker woman up there in the hills to look after my house. She is the ugliest woman – horrible, repulsive, hideous, and nauseating. Just one look at her and one feels like vomiting.

When I go to live there, at first she looks horrible. But slowly, slowly, after a few lonely days, she is not so horrible. Then after some more desolate forlorn days, she doesn’t seem that undesirable. And as more and more time passes in lonesome seclusion, a day comes when I start seeing some beauty in her.

The day I start seeing beauty in that horrid woman I know that it is time to escape from my virtual world in the hills.

The day I start getting attracted to the hideous woman means enough is enough – I have lived away from the real world for too long – now even this horrible revolting woman has started looking beautiful.

I may even fall in love with this ghastly ugly repugnant woman – that’s dangerous.

Enough is Enough… Enough of the virtual world… it is time to get back to the real world…

So I pack up my things and rush back to the city.”


Dear Reader:
Has your Virtual World, your cyber space, your second life, started looking a bit too “beautiful”…?
Are you spending more time in cyberspace, social networking and interacting with your virtual friends, rather than having face to face interactions and communication with your immediate flesh and blood friends in real space?
Is there an imbalance? Are your virtual relationships overwhelming and taking precedence over your real relationships?
Are you losing touch with reality?
Maybe it is time for you to return back to the Real World, isn’t it…?
Of course, when you get saturated and bored spending too much time in the real world, feel suffocated with relationships in the Real World, you can always go back to the virtual world, your alter ego, and enjoy the best of both worlds, alternating and switching over between both your lives, online and offline, just like Mulla Nasrudin does between the city and the hill-station!
Social Networking gives you a lot of pleasure and satisfaction and internet a great tool for building relationships. It is good to have the best of both worlds, the real and the virtual, as long as you maintain a balance living your life in real space and cyber space.
Good Bye, take care…
VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2010
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
VIKRAM KARVE educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale, and Bishop’s School Pune, is an Electronics and Communications Engineer by profession, a Human Resource Manager and Trainer by occupation, a Teacher by vocation, a Creative Writer by inclination and a Foodie by passion. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories and creative non-fiction articles in magazines and journals for many years before the advent of blogging. He has written a foodie book Appetite For A Stroll and a book of fiction short stories COCKTAIL which is being published soon and is currently busy writing his first novel. Vikram lives in Pune with his family and pet Doberman girl Sherry, with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.
Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.com
Professional Profile of Vikram Karve:
http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Creative Writing by Vikram Karve: http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/blog/posts.htm

http://shopping.sify.com/appetiteforastroll-vikram-karve/books/9788190690096.htm


http://www.facebook.com/notes.php?pages#!/pages/Cocktail-by-Vikram-Karve-APK-Publishers/177873552253247


© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Vikram Karve : COCKTAIL – Short Stories about Relationships By VIKRAM KARVE

February 12, 2011

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: COCKTAIL – Short Stories about Relationships By VIKRAM KARVE.

 

COCKTAIL – Short Stories about Relationships By VIKRAM KARVE

Dear Fellow Bloggers and Friends,
My book titled COCKTAIL – a collection of my fiction short stories is about to be published soon. I will let all of you know the moment it is ready and about the launch. I look forward to your patronage and encouragement. Here is the backcover blurb
Relationships are like cocktails.
Every relationship is a unique labyrinthine melange of emotions, shaken and stirred, and, like each cocktail, has a distinctive flavour and taste.
The twenty-seven stories in this collection explore fascinating aspects of modern day relationships – love, romance, sex, betrayal, marriage, parenting and even pet parenting.
You will relish reading these riveting cocktails of emotions narrated in easy engaging style and once you start reading you will find this delicious “cocktail” unputdownable.
Wish me luck
Vikram Karve
VIKRAM KARVE educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale, and Bishop’s School Pune, is an Electronics and Communications Engineer by profession, a Human Resource Manager and Trainer by occupation, a Teacher by vocation, a Creative Writer by inclination and a Foodie by passion. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories and creative non-fiction articles in magazines and journals for many years before the advent of blogging. He has written a foodie book Appetite For A Stroll and a book of fiction short stories COCKTAIL which is being published soon and is currently busy writing his first novel. Vikram lives in Pune with his family and pet Doberman girl Sherry, with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.
Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.com
Professional Profile of Vikram Karve: http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Creative Writing by Vikram Karve: http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/blog/posts.htm

http://shopping.sify.com/appetiteforastroll-vikram-karve/books/9788190690096.htm

http://www.facebook.com/notes.php?pages#!/pages/Cocktail-by-Vikram-Karve-APK-Publishers/177873552253247

The Smart Young IT Pro and her Secret

November 6, 2010

The Smart Young IT Pro and her Secret.

COME SEPTEMBER

September 8, 2010

Romancing in the Rain

COME SEPTEMBER.

Click the link above and romance in the rain…

WHY I AM GOING TO BOARDING SCHOOL

May 16, 2010

WHY I AM GOING TO BOARDING SCHOOL

Short Fiction – A Story from the pages of a Diary written by a Small girl many years ago

By

VIKRAM KARVE

From my Archives – a fiction short story I wrote a few years ago. A small girl’s tale, narrated in her own words…


It all started when God took my baby brother away.

Poor thing!

God took him away even before he was born.

And Mamma was never the same again.

She changed forever.

We were so happy then.

A happy family – My Papa, my Mamma, my loving Granny and cute little Me.

We all lived in a cute little house in a place called Madiwale Colony in Sadashiv Peth in Pune.

In the morning Papa caught the company bus to his factory in Pimpri and Mamma walked me down to my school nearby on Bajirao Road.

And the evenings we all went to the Talyatla Ganpati temple in Saras Baug, played on the lush green lawns, and if Papa was in a good mood he would treat me to a yummy Bhel prepared by the man with the huge flowing beard at the Kalpana Bhel stall on the way back.

On Sundays we would go to Laxmi Road for shopping, Misal at Santosh Bhavan, Amba ice cream at Ganu Shinde and, maybe, a Marathi movie at Prabhat, Vijay or Bhanuvilas.

And once in a while, Papa would take us on his Bajaj scooter to Camp, or a ride on the Jangli Maharaj Road, or to picnic spots like Khadakvasla and Katraj lakes, or up Sinhagarh Fort, and once we even went all the way to Lonavala; Papa, Mamma and me, all riding on our beloved and hardy scooter.

It was a good life, and we were happy and content.

Two things are a must for a happy home – firstly, you must love your home, and always want to go home (your home should be the best place in the world for you); and, secondly, your home must love you, your home must want you to come home, beckon you, welcome you and like you to live in it.

Our cute little house in Sadashiv Peth with all the loving people in living in it was indeed a happy home. And I had lots of friends all around.

One day they all said Mamma was going to have a baby.

Being a girl myself, I wanted a baby sister to play with, but Granny scolded me and said it must be a baby brother, so I said okay – I would manage with a baby brother.

And suddenly one day, when Mamma’s tummy was bloating quite a bit, they rushed her to hospital, and God took my unborn baby brother away.

It was at this moment that Mamma changed forever.

I sat beside Mamma in the hospital and consoled her, “Don’t worry. God will send another baby brother.”

And on hearing this Mamma started crying and said she would never have a baby again and I was her only baby.

She looked pale and had a sad look in her eyes for many days even after leaving hospital.

And most of the time she would sit alone brooding by the window or moping all alone in her room.

“She’ll go crazy sitting in the house all day. She must do something!” everyone said, but Papa was adamant: “Who’ll look after the house, my mother, my daughter?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll manage everything,” Granny said, so Mamma joined a Computer class nearby.

And soon she started becoming normal and happy again.

“She’s a natural programmer,” everyone praised her, and when she finished the course she was offered a good job in a top IT software firm.

“No way,” said Papa, “I’m the breadwinner. I don’t want my wife to work. I want her to look after the house.”

“MCP,” said everyone to Papa.

I didn’t know what MCP meant, but it made Papa very angry.

“Let her work. I’ll manage the house,” Granny said.

“Don’t worry, Papa. I’m a big girl now and can look after myself. I’ll study regularly and come first,” I promised.

And so, Mamma started working.

And when she brought her first pay and gave it to Papa, he said proudly, “I’ll be the last person to touch my wife’s money, I would rather starve than live off my wife.”

So my Mamma gave the money to Granny and Papa didn’t say a thing, he just sulked for days.

Life was hectic now.

Mamma got up very early, cooked the food, did the housework, got ready and then both Papa and Mamma caught their respective company buses to their faraway workplaces – he to his factory in Pimpri and she to the IT Park.

And after that Granny made me ready and I walked down Bajirao Road to my school.

One day my Mamma’s boss came home with Mamma.

He said the company wanted to send Mamma abroad to the US for working on a project.

He had come home to convince Papa to let her go.

I thought that Papa would argue, and hoped he would not let her go, but surprisingly he meekly agreed, probably thinking it was futile to argue, and Mamma went away to the States for three months.

Then there was an IT boom.

IT, IT everywhere!

That was a turning point in our lives.

Mamma started doing better and better, becoming more and more successful, doing more and more projects, earning more and more money.

Papa felt jealous that she was earning more than him, so he took VRS and started a business selling spare parts.

And then a competition started between them, and soon they both were making so much money that Sadashiv Peth wasn’t a good enough place to stay in any longer as it did not befit their new found status!

So we moved to a luxury apartment in a fancy township in a posh suburb of Pune, and I was put in a famous elite school known more for its snob appeal than academic accomplishments and studies.

Our new house was in a beautiful colony, far away from the city, with landscaped gardens, clubhouse, swimming pool, gym, and so many facilities.

It was so luxurious, and people living there so highbrow and snobbish, that Granny and I were miserable.

“It’s like a 5 star prison,” she would say. She was right in one way.

For the whole day when we all were away she was trapped inside with nothing to but watch soaps on cable TV in airconditioned comfort.

I too missed our cute old house in Sadashiv Peth, the Bhel, the trips to Saras Baug and Laxmi Road and most of all my earlier friends who were so friendly unlike the snobbish people here.

Oh yes, this was indeed a better house, but our old place in Sadashiv Peth was certainly a better home!

But Granny and me – we managed somehow, as Mamma increased her trips abroad and Papa was busy expanding his flourishing business.

And suddenly one day God took Granny away.

Mamma was abroad in America on an important project and she just couldn’t come immediately.

She came back after one month and for days Papa and she kept discussing something.

I sensed it was about me.

And tomorrow morning, I am off to an elite boarding school in Panchgani.

I don’t know whether what has happened is good or bad, or what is going to happen in future, but one thing is sure: If God hadn’t taken my baby brother away, I wouldn’t be going to boarding school!
VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2010

Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com

http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve

vikramkarve@sify.com

A HAIR RAISING ROMANCE

July 16, 2009

HAIR

[Short Fiction – A Love Story]

By

VIKRAM KARVE

Thunderbolt – Love at First Sight

I fell in love with her hair. Long, beautiful, copious, lustrous, her lush jet-black hair cascading majestically, adorning her fair and lovely body, almost down to her knees.

“Ooooooooh,” I sighed longingly, as I looked at her through the powerful binoculars, admiring her magnificent hair, feasting my eyes on her nubile body, thirstily drinking her in passionately, from head to toe, as she walked flamboyantly on Marine Drive.

I focussed, zoomed in on her face.

She was an exquisite beauty – tall, fair and freshly bathed, her luxuriant black hair flowing down her back, her sharp features accentuated by the morning sun, her nose slightly turned up, so slender and translucent, as though accustomed to smelling nothing but perfumes.

I could not take my eyes off her. I had never seen anyone so beautiful, so virginal, and so vulnerable.

“Uffffff,” I pined insatiably, my eyes locked onto her, imbibing, relishing, yearning, craving, totally mesmerized, when suddenly I was rudely shaken out my glorious reverie by vigorous hands roughly trying to grab the binoculars from my eyes and Bobby’s voice shouting excitedly in my ear, “Hey, let me see! Let me see!”

“She is too good, yaar!” Bobby exclaimed, “and just look at her hair – it’s so lovely!”

“Hey, you shameless voyeurs – don’t ogle so blatantly – if they find out you’ll be up the gum-tree!”  Aditya laughed as he entered.

“She’s really amazing, yaar! Just look,” Bobby said handing the binoculars to Aditya.

“Which one?” Aditya asked, panning the horizon.

“The tall, fair beauty with the lovely long hair,” Bobby said, pointing in her direction.

“Wow! She’s really gorgeous; just look the way she’s tossing her beautiful hair,” Aditya crooned with appreciation. Then he paused for a moment, hesitating, uncertain, and said, “I think I’ve seen her somewhere.”

“Where?” Bobby and I asked.

“Churchgate. I think she’s in our Churchgate branch,” Aditya said tentatively.

“What? She works in your bank?” I exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes, I think so. I’ll find out tomorrow – wangle some work at the Churchgate branch. She’s certainly worth a try,” Aditya said mischievously.

“Hey, you, hands off – she’s strictly mine!” I warned.

“It’s that serious, is it?” Aditya ribbed.

“It’s the thunderbolt – Love at first sight!” Bobby laughed, “You should have seen the way he was lapping her up!”

“Then we’ll have to do something, isn’t it? An intro, maybe a date! Let’s see,” Aditya promised.

Our First Date

Heads turned as we entered the restaurant. I felt the natural pride of possession that any man feels when he has the company of a woman that other men desire.

We sat down and talked. I found that she was easy to talk to. I experienced a strange feeling of elation. In these moods, there was so much to say – the words simply came tumbling out.

I told her everything about myself. She was a good listener. Time flew. I soon realized that she was looking at me with undisguised affection. There was a conspiratorial look in her expressive eyes; at once inviting and taunting, and she radiated an extraordinary magnetic allure that had me awestruck.

She knew that it was her gorgeous hair that was her piece de resistance, the quintessence of her persona, the key facet of her loveliness, her attractiveness, her exquisite beauty, her captivating aura; and she used it with enthralling effect.

She would let her silky fragrant hair fall on her face. Then in a most fascinating manner she would tantalizingly toss her hair back with a titivating flick of her hand, arching her eyebrows most sexily as she seductively preened her slender neck. I sat in front of her, mesmerized. I could not take my eyes off her. I had never seen anyone so beautiful, so irresistible, so appealing.

I was madly in love with her – her teasing eyes, her nubile body, her captivating persona, but most importantly, her gorgeous hair!

Proposal

I was so confident she would say “Yes” that I had a diamond engagement ring ready in my pocket when I proposed to her, as we held hands, sitting by the sea on Marine Drive, viewing a romantic sunset.

She said “No”.

“Why?” I asked, devastated.

“Your hair,” she said, “look at your hair – you’re already graying!”

“No,” I said firmly, “I’m sure I don’t have any white hair!”

“Yes, you do,” she said, “go home and have a look in the mirror.”

And as she said this, maybe to drive home her point, she sensuously caressed her beautiful lush black hair with her lovely hands.

That night I didn’t look at myself in the mirror. I cried, wept in my pillow, dismayed, wounded, shattered by the rejection. Next morning I carefully examined my hair in the mirror and found just one infinitesimal strand of gray, barely visible, which her discerning eyes had noticed, a mere hint of gray, which had spelt my doom.

Love at Second Sight

Ten years later, I ran into her in a shopping mall in Pune. She looked chic.

She smiled at me and I was struck by the thunderbolt once more.

As I looked at her I felt that recognizable mingling of ineffable yearning and intense desire and I realized that even after all these years I was still desperately in love with her.

Her beauty had enhanced with age. And yes, it was still her exquisite gorgeous that was her crowning glory. Even after so many years her magnificent lush hair cascaded luxuriously down her sumptuous body, almost to her knees, and it was still as jet-black, lustrous and alluring as before.

And my own hair had turned almost totally gray! In fact it was mostly white, with a few black strands.

“You look lovely,” I said.

“Thanks. You’ve …”

“Prematurely grayed,” I completed the sentence.

She caressed her beautiful dark hair, tossed it.

“Coffee?” I suggested.

“Okay. Let’s finish our shopping first and then we’ll meet in the coffee shop at the entrance.”

She was waiting for me in the coffee shop.

“Sorry,” I said, “Cappuccino?”

“I’ve already ordered for both of us. Cappuccino and Black Forest Pastry – like we used to have in Mumbai,” she said.

“How come you’re in Pune?” I asked.

“Changed my job. And you?”

“Been here for eight years now. I’ve a place in Aundh.”

“Aundh? That’s great – I too live there – just settling in. Maybe you can give me a lift.”

We dumped our shopping bags in the rear seat and as I drove with her sitting beside me I could not resist admiring her enchanting hair.

“Hey, I’ll get off here,” she suddenly said.

“Here?” I said slowing down the car and steering left towards the footpath.

“That’s where I stay,” she said pointing to a posh building.

She got out of the car, closed the front door, opened the rear door, picked up her shopping bag, gave me a smile and wave of thanks, turned around and walked away, her luxurious hair cascading around her shapely figure like a silky waterfall.

Epiphany

“What’s this?” my wife shouted from the kitchen.

“What?” I asked.

“I sent you to buy coffee, tea, spices…and look what you have brought?”

“What?”

“Hair Dye…a pack of Black Hair Color…gel…a complete hair coloring kit…”

I rushed to the kitchen and saw my amused wife take out the contents of the shopping bag one by one.

“Oh My God!” I exclaimed, “She picked up the wrong bag.”

“She?” my wife asked arching her eyebrow.

So I told my darling wife the whole story – right from the beginning – from start to finish. And then we had a good laugh.

And now I eagerly await my next encounter with the beautiful lady with the magnificent lush “jet-black” hair.

And, my dear reader, I’ll sure tell you all about it!

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2009

Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

vikramkarve@sify.com

vikramkarve@hotmail.com

http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com

http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve

http://www.ryze.com/go/karve

MARRIAGE DIVORCE MARRIAGE

July 14, 2009

Dating Mating Hating Resuscitating

Short Fiction – A Love Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE


The much delayed monsoon has finally arrived in Pune. It’s been raining incessantly all morning.

Ideally, at 10 o’clock in the morning on a working day, I should have been safely ensconced in my office, but today I sit in the driving seat of my car, slowly negotiating my way in the torrential rain, for I have an important appointment to keep.

Suddenly I see Avinash, half drenched, shivering under the bus-stop at Aundh, trying to protect himself from the pouring rain.

He sees me too. Our eyes meet. I don’t know who is more surprised at this unexpected encounter – he or me.

At first instinct, I just feel like ignoring him and driving away.

But then my humanitarian side takes over, so I stop the car near him, lean across, open the door and beckon him to get inside.

He seems hesitant, “Thanks, but I’ll take an auto – I am going to Deccan…”

“Come on Avinash, get in fast or you’ll get wet – you won’t get a rickshaw in this rain – I too am going towards Deccan Gymkhana – I’ll drop you on the way.”

He gets in and for a while we drive in silence.

“It’s been five years,” he says.

“Yes,” I say, “Quite a surprise, seeing you here in Pune…”

“Yes. I just came in from Mumbai by the Volvo bus, got down at Parihar Chowk… and you…what are you doing in Pune?”

“I relocated here six months ago…you still in the States?”

“Yes. But maybe I’ll come back…”

“Recession…?”

“Not really…”

“So you’ve come to look for a job in Pune…?”

“It’s actually something else…a family matter…”

“Family matter…? In Pune…?”

“My wife is from Pune…”

“Wife…? You remarried…?

“Yes…two years ago…”

“And I didn’t even know…!”

“We decided…didn’t we…to move on…go off on our different ways…not look back…”

“Yes…we lost track of each other completely…”

“That was good…isn’t it…for both of us…”

“Yes…”

“And you…? You married again…?”

“Yes…soon after you left for the States after our divorce…”

“On the rebound…?”

“Maybe…” I laugh.

Avinash has not changed…the way he says these devastatingly rude things in such a naïve innocent way.

We are nearing the Pune University circle so I ask, “Where is your wife’s house…? I’ll take the road accordingly…”

“It’s okay…just drop me wherever you can…”

“Come on…tell me…see how much it is raining…you want me to take Senapati Bapat Road…or drive straight ahead…to Fergusson College Road…or Jangli Maharaj Road…?”

“It’s okay…you go wherever you want to go in Deccan…I’ll get off there…”

“Oh…so you don’t want to show me your wife’s house…” I say, tongue in cheek.

“No…No…it’s not that…I am going somewhere else…to the Family Court…”

“To the Family Court…? I ask, taken aback.

“Yes,” he says, “it’s beyond Deccan, past Lakdi Pul…near Alaka…”

“I know where the family court is…” I say, “I hope you are not…”

“Yes…first it was the Family Court in Mumbai with you…and now…” he stops, as tears well up in his eyes.

“I too am going to the Family Court…” I say, sensing a lump in my throat.

“What…?” he looks at me, startled.

“I am divorcing my husband…today is the final hearing…hopefully…”

I slow down, stop the car near the kerb past E-Square. I wipe my eyes with tissue and hold the tissue box towards Avinash. He too wipes his eyes.

“Maybe we should have stayed together, tried to make our marriage work,” I say.

“Yes…it all happened so fast …maybe we were too hasty, too impatient, too headstrong…”

“Yes…we could have tried to make it work…”

“I think we sought the easy way out…we were too young…unrealistic…immature…impetuous…volatile…”

“Yes… ours was a tempestuous stormy relationship…a terrible marriage…but there is one thing…”

“What…?”

“With you I could be myself…no mask, no pretence, no forced geniality…”

“Me too…with you I could truly be myself…no contrived feelings, no holding back…I could never be like that with anyone else…with her too…the way could naturally be with you…you know I think we were made for each other…”

“Maybe we should give it a try…one more time…make things work…”

“You’re serious…?” he asks with a curious look in his eyes.

“Yes, Avinash. Let’s empty our cups and start afresh. Like you said, I too think we are made for each other.”

“Okay, but there is one thing…”

“What…?”

“Is it allowed to marry the same person twice…?

“I think so…I’ll ask my divorce lawyer…she will know…”

“Yes…I’ll confirm at the Family Court too…”

“One more thing…”

“Now what…?”

“This time…No Expectations, No Disappointments, Happy Marriage…”

“Yes,” I say lovingly putting my hand on his: “No Expectations…No Disappointments…Happy Marriage…”

Suddenly I notice that it has stopped raining and the sun is peeping through the clouds.

I feel good. I start the car and we drive on towards the Family Court…to erase the second chapter of our marital lives forever and to begin writing our first inchoate chapter afresh.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2009

Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com


vikramkarve@sify.com

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