Posts Tagged ‘dating’

Short Fiction – CLIMAX – REUNION OF THE EXES – A Passionate Ex Sex Love and Lust Urban Adult Story

October 25, 2012

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: CLIMAX – REUNION OF THE EXES – A Passionate Ex Sex Love and Lust Urban Adult Story.

Click the link above and read the original story in my creative writing journal.

The story is also posted below for your convenience:

CLIMAX – REUNION OF THE EXES – A Passionate Ex Sex Love and Lust Urban Adult Story

Link to the Original Blog Post:
http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/10/climax-reunion-of-exes-passionate-ex.html

Short Fiction by Vikram Karve
CLIMAX – REUNION OF THE EXES
 
From My Creative Writing Archives:
An Urban Adult Story (for a change)
Dear Reader: I wrote the story below titled REUNION as my entry for the Urban Stories Competition 2011. It is a story for Urban Adults. The stories were required to be set in an Urban backdrop in contemporary India.
Sadly, this story did not win a prize. I wonder why?
But that does not matter. This story still remains one of my favourites. 
So I am posting this story, once more, for you to read…
CLIMAX
REUNION of the EXES
Fiction Short Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
The woman gradually came into consciousness from her drunken stupor. Her head throbbed with pain, her eyes ached, her throat felt dry, her tongue tasted bitter – it was a terrible hangover.
Streaks of diffused sunlight filtered in through the curtains of the solitary window. The woman opened her eyes but everything looked blurred. Slowly things began to come into focus. She wondered where she was – the strange room, the unfamiliar bed, scary unknown surroundings – she felt a tremor of trepidation. 
She decided to get up, go to the window, open the curtains, look outside and try to see where she was. But the moment she tried to get up, the blanket covering her body fell off and the woman realized that she was naked, stark naked.
She felt a shiver up her spine, then suddenly she was overcome by a nauseating stomach-churning fear that made her throw up, vomiting copiously all over the place, the bed, her body, and she retched again and again till there was nothing left inside her, and then she collapsed on the bed and passed out.
When the woman came back into consciousness again, she felt a cold wet towel on her forehead. She opened her eyes. A fresh new blanket covered her body. Someone had tried to clean up, even wiped her body clean, but there were still traces of her vomit here and there, her skin felt sticky and the place reeked with a disgusting stench.
“Feeling okay?” a male voice said from behind.
She recognized the voice at once and suddenly felt goose bumps all over her naked body inside the blanket.
“My clothes? What happened to my clothes?” the woman asked the man.
“I took them off,” the man said, matter-of-factly.
“You took my clothes off? How dare you? You get out of here. What are you doing here?” asked the woman.
“This is my room and that is my bed you’re lying down on,” the man answered.
“Your room?”
“You don’t remember anything, do you?”
“What happened?”
“I flew in from Singapore and checked in last evening. Then I had a shower and went down to pub for a drink and I was shocked to see you there – you were horribly drunk, downing tequila shot after shot, and making out with that lecherous firangi.”
“Making out? Lecherous firangi?
“I beat the shit out of him and threw him out.”
“You beat him up? Are you crazy? He is our most important client – he has come all the way here from America to see our Pune centre.”
“Important client, my foot – that doesn’t give him the right to get you drunk, out of your senses, and then take advantage of you. The bugger was trying to take you up to his room and screw you.”
“Maybe I wanted to be taken advantage of. Maybe I wanted him to screw me.” 
“You filthy drunken whore. I saved you. You should be grateful to me. If your husband found out…”
“Suppose I say my husband knows…”
“Bloody hell? Offshoring and Outsourcing – what a laugh!”
“What do you mean…?”
“An IT Czar offshoring his own wife for getting outsourcing business. You dumped me for that unscrupulous pimp?”
“You mind your tongue and just get out of here. I don’t want to talk to you. Let me wash up and change. Where is my bag, my things? I have to catch the 11 o’clock flight to Delhi. Our client is coming with me on the flight. I’ll have to apologize to him for all that happened.”
“He’s gone. I made sure he left. You know what time it is? It is one o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Oh, My God. I’ve missed my flight. How could he go away just like that without me?”
“That horny bastard was looking for you. The bugger had even found his way here. He wanted to take you along with him to the airport to catch your flight.”
“He saw me here?”
“No chance. I didn’t let him enter the room. I told him to vamoose, to disappear, and warned him never to contact you again.”
“Shit.”
“It’s not shit, it’s puke, your stinking vomit. I never knew you could be so disgusting. You puked all over your clothes. That is why I took them off and washed them. I have hung them in the bathroom – they must be dry by now. Don’t worry. I’ve checked you out of your room and had your things brought up – there’s your bag, near the closet. I checked out your bag, found your ticket, cancelled your 11 o’clock flight. I have now booked you on the evening flight to Delhi. Now go in and clean yourself up. I’ll go down and wait for you in the lobby. We’ll have a good lunch in the restaurant – you need to eat. And there’s some chilled Bloody Mary in the flask – drink it – it will cure your hangover.”
“Thanks,” the woman said.
The man walked out of the room, closed the door. The woman got up from the bed and ran naked into the bathroom.
Later, they both sat in the restaurant, enjoying a leisurely lunch in silence. The woman was feeling better now.
The man broke the silence, “I never expected to meet you here. I thought you were living in America after dumping me and marrying that wily bastard.”
“Please don’t start again. You tell me about yourself. You married?”
“No. Once bitten, twice shy.”
“And your work?”
“Well, I did this and that, and then took up a teaching assignment in Singapore. I’ve settled there now. I have come to Pune for a seminar and to deliver some lectures. And you? I have totally lost track of you, after that IT Czar lured you from me and took you away to the US of A.”
“We still have our main operations there, but we’ve expanded our business to India too – offshoring, outsourcing, ITES, all sorts of IT services – we’ve three centres here – at Gurgaon, Delhi and Pune – now-a-days I spend most of my time in Gurgaon.”
“And your husband?”
“He lives in the US – looks after the business out there.”
“Oh. Long distance marriage, eh? No wonder.”
“No wonder, what?”
“That you’re so sex starved – getting drunk and seducing firangis at your husband’s behest. Your guy can’t get it up, is it? No wonder you were so tight.”
“Tight? What are you saying?”
“I did it.”
“You did it?”
“Yes. I did it. Last night. With you. But you were so dead drunk, I doubt you even felt anything.”
“You bastard! You screwed me? I suspected as much when I was bathing, but I never imagined you would stoop so low and take advantage of me.”
“But you said you wanted to be taken advantage of.”
“I want to go,” the woman said sobbing, breaking down into tears.
“Cool down. Don’t make a spectacle of yourself again. I am sorry, but you were looking so attractive, so sexy, so desirable, that I remembered our days together and could not control myself,” the man said. He rose from his seat and spoke to the woman, “Come, I’ll take you to the washroom. You compose yourself. Then we’ll sit in the lounge and have some coffee.”
Later they sat in the poolside lounge and sipped hot coffee. It was winter; the late afternoon sun and slight breeze were quite comforting.
“I am sorry, very, very sorry,” the man said, “I shouldn’t have done it. I should have let you carry on with that firangi. Then all this would not have happened.”
“It’s okay. What’s done is done. At least it shows you still care for me.”
The man was taken aback by the woman’s words and he felt good.
“I always cared for you. I miss you terribly. We shouldn’t have divorced. We were too immature, too hot-headed; we could have patiently worked out our differences. Sometimes I think I am responsible for driving you into his arms,” the man said.
“No. It was my fault. I was too gullible and he was too smooth. He cleverly drove a wedge into our relationship, and I fell for it,” the woman said.
“I wish I could turn the clock back,” the man said.
“Me too.”
“We really had some good times together.”
“Yes. I can never forget those carefree days.”
“Let’s do one thing.”
“What?”
“It’s four now, your flight is at eight, airport check-in at seven, we’ve got three hours to kill – let’s go to Camp and loaf around Main Street, Marzorin, Monafood, Budhani’s, Kayani, Manneys, Needlewoman, the Bhelpuri stall – let’s see if all our old haunts are still there. If you want we’ll do some window shopping in the new Malls, wherever you want – and then I’ll drop you off at the airport.”
“No. Let’s go up to your room and do it,” the woman said.
“Do it?”
“Yes, let’s do it.”
“Do what?”
“What you did to me last night.”
“No.”
“Yes. Come. Let’s do it. This time, let’s do it like we used to do it.” 
“No social graces?”
“No social graces,” she smiled at their naughty private joke, “Yes, no social graces. Let’s go at each other like wild animals,” she tempted him with that tantalizing reckless look in her eyes.
He could feel the want churning inside him like fire.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s do it.”
They did it.
They went up to the room. Then, uninhibited, unrestrained, they let their carnal desires run amok with wild abandon and they did it.
They made love with wild passionate frenzy, demanding more and more of each other, resonating with peaks of sensual pleasure, till they were engulfed by the glow of ecstasy, the ultimate climax, and then they lay exhausted, their fires satiated, their limbs entangled, their bodies overcome by that unique soothing calm which is a consequence of fulfilled lovemaking.
VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 2012
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 reading this story? 
I am sure you will like all the 27 stories in my recently published book of short stories COCKTAIL
To order your COCKTAIL please click any of the links below:
http://www.flipkart.com/cocktail-vikram-karve-short-stories-book-8191091844?affid=nme
http://www.indiaplaza.in/cocktail-vikram-karve/books/9788191091847.htm
http://www.apkpublishers.com/books/short-stories/cocktail-by-vikram-karve.html
COCKTAIL ebook
If you prefer reading ebooks on Kindle or your ebook reader, please order Cocktail E-book by clicking the links below:
AMAZON
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005MGERZ6
SMASHWORDS
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/87925

Foodie Book:  Appetite for a Stroll
http://www.flipkart.com/appetite-stroll-vikram-karve/8190690094-gw23f9mr2o

About Vikram Karve

A creative person with a zest for life, Vikram Karve is a retired Naval Officer turned full time writer and blogger. Educated at IIT Delhi, IIT (BHU) 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 large 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 and magazines for many years, before the advent of blogging. Vikram has taught at a University as a Professor for 15 years and now teaches as a visiting faculty and devotes most of his time to creative writing and blogging. Vikram Karve 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

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
  
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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

SAPIENCE – My Favourite Short Stories Revisited Part 25

January 10, 2012

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: SAPIENCE – My Favourite Short Stories Revisited Part 25.

Click the link above to read one of my earliest short stories SAPIENCE


COCKTAIL – MY FAVOURITE SHORT STORIES Part 36

September 5, 2011

 

COCKTAIL.

Please click on the title COCKTAIL above and read the story in my Creative Writing Blog.

This is the story selected for the title of my short stories book COCKTAIL.
Did you like this story?
I am sure you will like the stories in my recently published book COCKTAIL comprising twenty seven short stories about relationships. To order the book please click the links below:

http://www.flipkart.com/cocktail-vikram-karve-short-stories-book-8191091844?affid=nme


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 he is currently working on his novel. 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. 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    

 

URBANIZATION OF THE MOFUSSIL GIRL – Story of a Modern Girl

August 5, 2011

URBANIZATION OF THE MOFUSSIL GIRL – Story of a Modern Girl.

Click the link above and read the story on my creative writing blog

Regards

Vikram Karve

KETTI – a travel romance by Vikram Karve

May 28, 2011

KETTI.

KETTI
Short Fiction – A Travel Tale
By
VIKRAM KARVE

From my Creative Writing Archives:

 
Short Fiction – A Simple Love Story I wrote sometime in the 1990s …
Winter.

Early morning.

Chill in the air.


I stand alone on the metre gauge side of the lonely island platform of Mettupalaiyam Railway Station and stare at the peaks of the Blue Mountains (the Nilgiris) silhouetted in a veil of mist in the distance.

Nothing much has changed here since the last time I came here on my way to Ooty.

It was almost 30 years ago and even now the place, the things, the people – everything looks the same – as if frozen in time.

But for me there is a world of difference.

Then I was a young bride, full of inchoate zest, in the company of my handsome husband, eagerly looking forward to the romantic journey on the toy train of the Nilgiri Mountain Railway on my way to our honeymoon at Ooty.  

Then, on my way to my honeymoon, the place felt so exciting. 

Now it feels so gloomy.

Strange. 

But true. 

What’s outside just doesn’t matter; it is what is inside that matters.


I try not to reminisce.

Remembering good times when I am in misery causes me unimaginable agony.


I look at my watch.

7.30 A.M.

The small blue toy train pushed by its hissing steam engine comes on the platform.

Dot on time.

As it was then.


The same chill in the air. The same February morning – the 14th of February – Valentine’s Day. 

Then I had the loving warmth of my husband’s arm around me.

Now I feel the bitter cold penetrating within me.


I drag my feet across the platform towards the mountain train – then they called it The Blue Mountain Express – now I don’t know.

Scared, anxious, fear in my stomach, I experience a strange uneasiness, a sense of foreboding, a feeling of ominous helplessness – wondering what my new life would have in store for me.

I sit alone in the First Class compartment right in front of the train and wait for the train to start – the train which is going to take me to the point to no return.

I wish that all this is just a dream.

But I know it is not.


And suddenly, Avinash enters.

We stare at each other in disbelief.

Time stands still.


There is silence, a grotesque silence, till Avinash speaks, “Roopa! What are you doing here?”

I do not answer.

Because I cannot answer.

I am struck dumb, swept by a wave of melancholic despair.

My vocal cords numbed by emotional pain.


I look ineffectually and forlornly at Avinash and I realize that there is no greater pain than to remember happier times when in distress.  

“You look good when you get emotional,” Avinash says sitting opposite me.

In the vulnerable emotional state that I am in, I know that I will have a breakdown if I continue sitting with Avinash.

I want to get out, run away; but suddenly, the train moves.

I am trapped.

So I decide to put on a brave front, and say to Avinash, “Coming from Chennai?”


“Yes,” he says, “I’d gone for some work there.”

“You stay here? In Ooty?” I ask with a tremor of trepidation for I do not want to run into Avinash again and again; and let him know that I had made a big mistake by not marrying him – that I had made the wrong choice by dumping him, the man I loved, in search of a “better” life.

“I stay near Kotagiri,” Avinash says.

“Kotagiri?” I ask relieved.

“Yes, I own a tea-estate there.”

“You own a tea estate?”

“Yes. I am a planter.”

Now I really regret my blunder 30 years ago. Indeed I had made the wrong choice.

“Your family – wife, children?” I probe, curious.

“I didn’t marry,” he says curtly. “There’s no family; only me. A confirmed bachelor – just me – I live all by myself.”

“Oh, Avinash. You should have got married. Why didn’t you?”

“It is strange that you should be asking me why I did not marry,” he says.

 “Oh my God! Because of me?” 
 
Avinash changes the subject and says, “I’ll be getting off at Coonoor. My jeep will pick me up.”

He pauses, then asks me, “And you, Roopa? Going to Ooty? At the height of winter! To freeze over there?”


“No,” I say, “I am going to Ketti.”

“Ketti ?” he asks with derisive surprise.

“Yes. What’s wrong with going to Ketti?” I protest.

“There are only two places you can go to in Ketti – The boarding school and the old-age home. And the school is closed in December,” Avinash says nonchalantly, looking out of the window.

I say nothing.

Because I cannot say anything.

So I suffer his words in silence.


“Unless of course you own a bungalow there!” he says sarcastically turning towards me and mocking me once again.

The cat is out of the bag.

I cannot describe the sense of humiliation I feel sitting there with Avinash.

The tables seem to have turned.

Or have they?


There are only the two of us in the tiny compartment.

As the train begins to climb up the hills it began to get windy and Avinash closes the windows.


The smallness of the compartment forces us into a strange sort of intimacy.

I remember the lovely moments with Avinash.


A woman’s first love always has an enduring place in her heart.

“I am sorry if I hurt you,” Avinash says, “but the bitterness just came out.”

We talk.

Avinash is easy to talk to and I am astonished how effortlessly my words come tumbling out. 


I tell him everything. Yes, I tell him everything – the entire story of my life.

How I had struggled, sacrificed, planned and taken every care.

But still, everything had gone wrong.


Widowed at 28.

Abandoned by my only son at 52.

Banished to an old-age home. So that “they” could sell off our house and emigrate abroad.

“They” – yes, “they” – those two who ruined my life, betrayed my trust – my only son who I doted upon and lived for and that scheming wife of his. 


“I have lost everything,” I cry, unable to control my self. “Avinash, I have lost everything.”

“No, Roopa,” Avinash says. “You haven’t lost everything. You have got me! I’ve got you. We’ve got each other.”

Avinash takes me in his comforting arms. 

Cuddled in his arms, I experience the same feeling, the same zest, the same warmth, the same lovely emotion, the same love, that I felt thirty years ago, yes, thirty years ago, as a newly-wed on my first romantic journey, on this same mountain toy train, on my way to my first honeymoon, into the lovely blue mountains. 


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 stories in my recently published book COCKTAIL comprising twenty seven short stories about relationships.  

 

 

 

Do try out this delicious, heady and excitingCOCKTAIL. 

 

To know more please click the links below:
Cheers

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. 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. 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.

 

 

RENDEZVOUS AT CAFE NAAZ

May 13, 2011

RENDEZVOUS AT CAFE NAAZ.

RENDEZVOUS AT CAFE NAAZ 
Fiction Short Story – Detective Fiction 
By 
VIKRAM KARVE

From my Creative Writing Archives: 

For a change, here is a Detective Story I wrote recently. Old timers in Mumbai will surely remember the inimitable Cafe Naaz near Hanging Gardens on Malabar Hill overlooking Marine Drive. Sitting at Naaz Restaurant you got the best view of Mumbai. Well Cafe Naaz is no longer there, but memories remain!

A detective always remembers his first case. 

Let me tell you about mine.

This happened long back – more than thirty years ago – in the 1970s – when Pune was a salubrious pensioners’ paradise – a cosy laid back friendly town where everybody knew everybody. 
 
And let me tell you – at the time of this story – I was not even a full fledged detective – but I was just a rookie part-time amateur self-styled sleuth – studying in college – skylarking in my spare time as a private detective – masquerading as a Private Investigator for my uncle who ran a private detective agency.

Dear Reader, please remember that way back then, in good old days of the 1970s, there were no cell-phones, no PCs, no mobile cameras, handy cams or digital cameras, no modern technology gadgets, not even things like email and the internet that you take for granted today and the only method of investigation was the tried and tested good old physical surveillance where one spent hours and hours patiently shadowing and tailing your target.
 
“A woman wants her husband watched,” my uncle said giving me a slip of paper with a name and the room number of a well-known hotel in Pune.
 
“That’s all…?” I asked.

“He is a businessman from Mumbai…drives down to Pune very often…at least once a week…sometimes twice…ostensibly in connection with business…but she suspects there is some hanky-panky going on…”

One week later, waiting for the client to arrive at our planned rendezvous, I sat on the balcony of Café Naaz in the Hanging Gardens atop Malabar Hill sipping a cup of delicious Chai and enjoying the breathtaking view of the inimitable Mumbai sunset as the Arabian Sea devoured the orange sun followed by spectacular view of the Queen’s Necklace as the lights lit up Marine Drive.

She arrived on the dot at seven and sat opposite me.

I looked at my client.  She was a Beauty, a real beauty, 35… maybe 40… must have been a stunner in her college days…I tried not to stare at her.
  
“Okay…Tell me…” she said, getting to the point straightaway.
 
I started reading from my pocket-book, “Thursday morning at ten fifteen he left his hotel room…deposited key at reception telling them that he was going for work would return in the evening…started to drive down in his car towards Deccan…picked up a female who seemed to be waiting for him…she sat next to him…and as they drove off away from the city into the countryside they seemed to be getting amorous…lovey-dovey, you know, a bit of kissing, cuddling…”

“No…No…skip the details…just tell me…is he or isn’t he…?” she interrupted me. 
  
She seemed to be in a hurry. Maybe she was not comfortable being seen sitting with me over here and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“I think he is having an affair,” I said.
  
“You think he is having an affair?” 

“Yes. I am pretty sure he is having an affair.”

“How can you be so sure…?”

“Well we look for three things.


“Three things?
  
“Yes, the three key ingredients required to have a affair – Time, Inclination, Opportunity.”

“Time … Inclination … Opportunity…” she repeated looking quite perplexed.
 
“Well they certainly had the Time … they spent the whole day together in seclusion … and they certainly had the Opportunity … behind the privacy of closed doors in that lonely discreet motel hidden in the back of beyond … and as far as the Inclination part is concerned … well, the way they were behaving with each other … well, I have no doubt about it….”

A smile broke out on her face. 

I was flabbergasted. Now tell me dear reader – what would your reaction be if you came to know that your spouse was having an affair? Would you just smile? 

Suddenly I remembered what my uncle had told me, so I asked the woman, “Do you wish to increase coverage?” 

“Coverage?” 

“Yes, full coverage – Photographs, hotel receipts, documentary evidence, round the clock surveillance, explicit details, everything, no holds barred, the full works…” I elaborated. Of course all this detailed investigation would be personally handled in a professional manner by my experienced uncle and his agency. I was very keen that this woman ask us to do a comprehensive investigation. My uncle would be pleased with me and maybe he’d take me along and for me it would be a great learning experience.
  
“I don’t think so,” the woman said.
 
“No?” I said perplexed, “but you will require all this as evidence to establish that your husband is committing adultery.”
 
“Husband? Who said that man is my husband?” she said grinning like a Cheshire cat.
 
“You said so – to the head of the detective agency.”
 
“No, I did not tell your boss that the man was my husband – I never said that he was my husband. I just gave him the name of a man and told him that I wanted that man followed.
  
“But we assumed…”
  
“A good detective shouldn’t assume things, isn’t it…?
 
“But then why did you want that man followed…?” I asked curious.
  
“Well that’s my private matter,” she said, “but since you are such a cute boy and I like you, I will tell you. It is like this – One day, fifteen years ago, the day I completed my graduation, my parents showed me two photographs. The first photo was of the man you were following and the second photo was of the man who is now my husband.”

The woman paused for a moment, had a sip of water, and continued, “My parents told me to choose one, and I made my choice, but ever since then, during all these years of my married life, I was always tormented by the thought that I had made the wrong choice. But now, thanks to you, I know I made the right choice.”
 
She took out an envelope from her purse and gave it to me. “Here is your fee, and I have put in a little bonus for you for doing such an excellent job, she said. 

The woman patted my hand, then she got up and walked away into the enveloping darkness.
  
I opened the envelope and saw that the “little bonus” was much more than the fee – in fact, the bonus for me was more than double the fee for the entire investigation. 

I wondered whether she had two envelopes in her purse, one for each eventuality.

So my first case was over. 

I never forgot the cardinal lesson I learnt from this case. 

Since then, I never assume anything or presume anything – I never take anything for granted. Before I start a new investigation, the first thing I do is to carry out a background check of my client. Maybe that’s why I am such a successful detective.

So if you are thinking of hiring me, remember that the first thing I will do is to check you out.


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., all rights reserved.

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.

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve The Efficacy of Marriage Counselling in the Alleviation of Marital Discord

April 1, 2011

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve.

 

The Efficacy of Marriage Counselling in the Alleviation of Marital Discord

THE EFFICACY OF MARRIAGE COUNSELLING IN THE ALLEVIATION OF MARITAL DISCORD
Fiction Short Story
By

VIKRAM KARVE
From my Creative Writing Archives:
Short Fiction – A Story of changing relationships
Your relationship has become so demoralized by distrust that you two better break up rather than try to patch up.”
“What?”
“Yes. It’s better you split instead of living in perpetual suspicion like this. Why live a lie?”
“How can you say this? You are a marriage counsellor … you are supposed to save marriages, not break them.”
“But then what can I do if you don’t change your attitude?” I said in desperation, “you have to learn to trust your wife … just stop being jealous, suspicious, possessive. Mutual trust is important in a marriage, especially a long distance marriage like yours.”
I looked at the man sitting in front of me.

He was incredibly handsome; mid thirties, maybe forty, well groomed, sharp features accentuated by a smart neatly trimmed beard, clean brown eyes, he looked strong and confident, and his outward appearance betrayed no sign of what was going on inside him.

He looked at me longingly, in a lingering sort of way that women secretly want men to look at them.

I blushed, felt good, but quickly composed myself.

In such vulnerable situations anything could happen and I had to be careful, so I said to him in a firm dispassionate tone, “I think you better go now. It’s time for your flight.”

“It’s delayed.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. I’m the pilot – the commander of the aircraft. I’ve to report after an hour.”
“I’ll leave? It’s almost check-in time.”
“No! No! Please stay. There’s still two hours for your flight toLondon . I’ll get you checked-in. There’s something I want to tell you,” he pleaded, “I’ll order some more coffee.”
The airport restaurant was deserted at this late hour and wore a dark, eerie look, with just a few people huddled in muted whispers.
“I want to thank you for giving me this special appointment – agreeing to meet me here at such short notice,” he said.
“It’s okay. It was quite convenient for both of us, enroute catching our flights. A nice quiet discreet place, this airport restaurant.”
He paused for a moment, then spoke guiltily, “I did something terrible today.”
“What?”
“I stole my wife’s cell-phone.”
“Stole?”

“Yes.”

“You stole your wife’s mobile?”

“Yes. Just before I left. I took it from her purse. She was fast asleep.”
“This is too much! Stealing your wife’s mobile. That was the most despicable thing to do. I don’t think we should talk any more. You need some serious help,” I said, gulped down my coffee and started to get up.
“No! No! Please listen. It’s those tell-tale SMS messages!”
“SMS messages?”
“From ‘Teddy Bear’.”
“Teddy Bear?”
“Someone she knows. ‘Teddy Bear’. She’s saved his number. She keeps getting these SMSs, which she erases immediately.

“This ‘Teddy Bear’ SMSs your wife?”

“Yes. I think they are having a good time right behind my back the moment I take off on a flight. This ‘Teddy Bear’ and my wife. This evening when she was bathing while I was getting ready to leave for the airport, her cell-phone was lying on the bed, an SMS came from ‘Teddy Bear’ : “I am yearning for you. SPST.”

“SPST? What’s that?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I called the number. A male voice said: ‘Hi Sugar!’ Just imagine, he calls her ‘Sugar’. I hung up in disgust immediately. Then during dinner she kept getting calls and SMSs – must be the same chap: ‘Teddy Bear’.”
“Your wife spoke to him?”
“No. She looked at the number and cut it off. Four or five times. Then she switched her mobile to silent and put in her purse.”
“You asked her who it was?”
“No.”
“You should have. It may have been a colleague, a friend. That’s your problem – you keep imagining things and have stopped communicating with her. Ask her next time and I’m sure everything will clear up.”
“No! No! I am sure she is having an affair with this ‘Teddy Bear’ chap. Had it not been for the last minute delay in my flight, I wouldn’t have been home at that time.” he said. And then suddenly he broke down, tears pouring down his cheeks, his voice uncontrollable, “The moment I take off, she starts cheating on me.”
It was a bizarre sight. A tough looking man totally shattered, weeping inconsolably.
“Please,” I said, “control yourself. And you better not fly in this state.”
“I think you’re right,” he said recovering his composure, “I’m in no mood to fly.”

He took out a cell-phone from his shirt pocket, dialled the standby pilot and a few other numbers and told them he was unwell and was going off the roster.

He kept the mobile phone on the table.
“Your wife’s cell-phone?” I asked pointing to the sleek mobile phone he had kept on the table.
“Yes.”
“She’ll be missing it.”
“No. She’ll be fast asleep. I’ll go back and put it in her purse.”

We sat for some time in silence. It appeared he was in a trance, a vacuous look in his eyes. Years of counselling had taught me that in such moments it was best to say nothing. So I just picked up my cup and sipped what remained of my coffee.

Suddenly he got up and said, “I think I’ll go home,” and he quickly turned and walked away.

It was only after he had gone, as I kept my coffee cup back on the table, that I noticed that he had forgotten the cell-phone on the table, his unfaithful wife’s cell-phone.

An idea struck me.

At first I was a bit hesitant; then curiosity took charge of me and I picked it the mobile phone.

Hurriedly I clicked on ‘names’, pressed ‘T’, quickly found‘Teddy Bear’ and pressed the call button.

A few rings and I instantly recognized my husband’s baritone voice at the other end, “Hey Sugar, where are you? Why aren’t you answering? Did you get my SMS  – SPST’  –  ‘Same Place Same Time’. Why did you give me a blank call?…..”

I couldn’t believe this. My dear own husband – ‘Teddy Bear’. Right under my nose. It was unimaginable, incredulous.

I felt shattered. My very own world came tumbling down like a pack of cards.

I cannot begin to describe the emotions that overwhelmed me at that moment, but I’ll tell you what I did.
I put the cell-phone in my purse, walked briskly to the check-in counter without looking back, quickly checked in, and boarded the flight; and, Dear Reader, as you read this, at this very moment, I am on my way to London to present my research paper on ‘ The efficacy of marriage counselling in the alleviation of marital discordat the International Conference of Counsellors.

And till I return, let everyone here stew in suspense.

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.
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. His delicious foodie blogs have been compiled in a book “Appetite for a Stroll”. A collection of his short stories about relationships titled COCKTAIL has been published and Vikram is currently busy writing his first novel and with his teaching and training assignments. Vikram lives in Pune with his family and his muse – his pet DobermanX girl Sherry, with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.
Short Stories Book:
COCKTAIL Short Stories about Relationships By VIKRAM KARVE
APK PUBLISHERS (They ship overseas too)
Foodie Book:
Vikram Karve Creative Writing Blog:http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/blog/posts.htm
Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.com
Professional Profile of Vikram Karve: http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Vikram Karve COCKTAIL – Short Stories about Relationships By VIKRAM KARVE

March 17, 2011

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

 


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Dear Friends,

I have written a book of short stories called COCKTAIL. The twenty-seven stories in this collection explore fascinating aspects of modern day relationships – love, romance, sex, betrayal, marriage, parenting and even pet parenting. Relationships are like cocktails, emotions shaken and stirred, and I assure you that you will enjoy reading these stories.

COCKTAIL is my first book of fiction. I want COCKTAIL to sell well as I feel that the success of this book will be an important launch pad as I embark on my creative writing journey and help me publish my novel, which I am currently writing.

I seek your blessings and good wishes and I am sure you will motivate me by buying a copy of my book COCKTAIL. This appetizing COCKTAIL costs just the same as an alcoholic cocktail, probably less, and I assure you that you will love it.

Please click the link below to buy the book online:

http://www.apkpublishers.com/books/fiction/cocktail_by_vikram_karve.html

You can order it on FLIPKART too. Just click the link below and place your order.

(Please ignore the “out of stock” bit – my publisher assures me the book will be delivered to you by FLIPKART and they will update the status the moment they get an order):

http://www.flipkart.com/cocktail-vikram-karve-short-stories-book-8191091844?ref=f97bb964-c672-44c5-bfe2-f496cf239053

http://www.flipkart.com/cocktail-vikram-karve-short-stories-book-8191091844?ref=53dfd28d-5c31-4e36-b0e2-79d771c06afb

I promise you that you will thoroughly enjoy this delicious COCKTAIL and you will be happy to have this book on your bookshelves.

Warm Regards and Best Wishes

Cheers … !!!

VIKRAM KARVE

Pune

9326177039

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