Posts Tagged ‘parenting’
March 23, 2012
Posted in creative, english, fiction, india, indian, karve, pune, stories, story, travel, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, women, writing | Tags: america, nri, parent, parenting |
January 10, 2012
Posted in creative, english, ezine, fiction, india, indian, karve, literature, novel, online, pune, short, stories, story, travel, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, women, writing | Tags: author, blog, book, cocktail, dating, engagement, fiction, india, karve, literature, marriage, mussoorie, parenting, pune, relationship, relationships, romance, short, stories, story, vikram karve |
September 30, 2011
MY FAVOURITE SHORT STORIES PART 50 – LOVE and ROMANCE.
Click the link above and read on my creative writing blog
Posted in creative, english, ezine, fiction, india, indian, karve, literature, novel, online, pune, sex, short, stories, story, travel, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, women, writing | Tags: amazon, book, cocktail, divorce, fiction, flipkart, karve, love, marriage, parenting, relationships, romance, stories, vikram |
September 29, 2011
BEST OF BOTH WORLDS
A Short Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
I have noticed one thing. In the colony where I live in Pune almost everyone’s children have migrated to the USA to realize the American Dream (That’s why Computer Science, Software Engineering and IT is so popular – it is the easiest way to go abroad). But one thing is very funny about this Indian (Puneri) diaspora. In their professional lives and careers they quickly adopt “modern” western American values but in their personal lives they still cling on to traditional Indian values. This story explores this dichotomy…
A middle aged woman watches the sun set from the balcony of her tenth floor flat of one of those ubiquitous residential “townships” rapidly sprawling and proliferating around the once remote suburb of Aundh on the outskirts of the once beautiful and picturesque city of Pune in western India.
The doorbell rings. It’s her husband back home from work.
He’s tired and aching all over after the long bone-rattling, back-breaking and lung-choking commute on the terrible roads and in the polluted atmosphere.
“Good news,” his wife says exuberantly, giving him his customary cup of tea.
“What?” the husband asks nonchalantly, carefully pouring the precise amount of tea from the cup into the saucer and lifting the saucer to his lips to enjoy his tea in his usual habitual manner.
“Our daughter Nalini is pregnant,” the wife exults.
“At long last – I thought she didn’t have time for mundane things like procreation – I am so glad she found time from her busy schedule,” the husband comments acerbically and noisily sips his tea in his customary acerbic style.
“Don’t be sarcastic. She’s a career woman. Aren’t you happy…?”
“Of course I’m happy. I’m 56 now – it’s high time I became a grandfather.”
“I’ll have to go…”
“Where…?”
“For her delivery.”
“To Seattle…?”
“Yes. Her due date is sometime in December. I better go as early as possible, maybe in October. Poor thing, it’s her first child. You better get the visas and all ready well in time. Nalini wants me to stay for at least three-four months after her delivery.”
“Three-four months after her delivery…? So you’ll be away for more than six months…?”
“Yes. I’m her mother and I have to be there to help her. Poor thing. It’s her first delivery. And that too in America… poor thing…”
“Poor thing…? Who asked her to go there…? And what about me…?”
“You also come and help out.”
“I won’t get six months’ leave.”
“Come for a month. To see the baby. In December or January…”
“I’ll see. But I don’t like it there. It’s too boring. And in December it will be freezing cold.”
“Then stay here.”
“I wish we hadn’t shifted from Sadashiv Peth.”
“Why…? Isn’t this lovely apartment better than those two horrible rented rooms we had…? And it’s all thanks to Nalini.”
“I know… I know… Don’t rub it in. But sometimes I wish we hadn’t pushed her into Computers and IT. We should have let her study arts, history, literature – whatever she wanted to.”
“And it would have been difficult to find a decent boy for her and she would be languishing like an ordinary housewife with no future… slogging away throughout her life like me.”
“And we would be still staying in the heart of the city and not in the wilderness out here… and you wouldn’t have to go all the way to America for her delivery…!”
“Don’t change the topic….” the wife says.
“I am not changing the topic,” says the husband firmly. “You are not going for Nalini’s delivery to America. Let them, she and her husband, manage on her own.”
“But why shouldn’t I go…? She is sending the ticket.”
“It’s not a question of money. The fact is I don’t want to stay all alone at this age. It is difficult. And here, in this godforsaken township full of snobs, I don’t even have any friends.”
“Try to understand. I have to be there. It’s her first delivery.”
“Tell me one thing.”
“What…?”
“Don’t the women out there have babies…?”
“Yes. So…?”
“And do they always have their mothers around pampering them during their pregnancies and deliveries…? And then mollycoddling their babies for the next few months, maybe even a year…?”
“I don’t know,” she said evading an answer, “for them it’s different.”
“Different…?”
“Our girls are najuk.”
“Najuk…?”
“Delicate…. fragile.”
“Nonsense. They are as tough as any one else. It’s all in the mind. It’s only our mindset that’s different.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Thousands of women who have migrated from all over the world are delivering babies out there every day, but it’s only our girls who can’t do without their mothers around, is it…?”
“Don’t argue with me. It’s our culture… our tradition. A daughter’s first delivery is her mother’s responsibility.”
“Culture…? Tradition…? What nonsense…? It’s not culture… it’s attitude…! Our people may have physically migrated to the modern world, but their mental make-up hasn’t changed, isn’t it…?”
“Please stop your lecturing. I’m fed up of hearing…” the wife pleads.
The husband continues as if he hasn’t heard her: “What they require is attitudinal change and to stop their double standards. Nonsense… Nobody forced them to go to America… They went there on their own and it’s high time they adopt the American way of life instead of clinging on to roots and values they themselves have cast off…”
“Please. Please. Please. Enough… I beg of you. Don’t argue. Just let me go.”
“No. You can’t go. I can’t stay alone for six months. Why should I…?”
“Try to understand. I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s our only daughter’s first delivery. I have to be there.”
“Okay. Tell her to come here.”
“Here…?”
“Yes. Here. To Pune. We’ll do her delivery right here in Pune. We’ll go to the best maternity hospital and then you can keep her here as long as you want. She’ll be comfortable, the weather will be good and you can pamper your darling daughter and her baby to your heart’s content.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘No’…? You went to your mother’s place for your deliveries isn’t it…? And you came back after the babies were more than three months old.”
“That was different. I wasn’t working.”
“Oh. It’s about her job is it…? I’m sure they have maternity leave out there. She can take a break. Come here to India. Have her baby. And if she wants to go back early we’ll look after the kid for a couple of months and then I’ll take leave and we’ll both go and drop the baby there.”
The wife says nothing.
“Give me the phone. I’ll ring her up and tell her to come here as early as possible. I’ll convince her she will be more comfortable here,” the husband says.
“I’ve already spoken to her and tried to convince her exactly what you suggested,” the wife says.
“And…?”
“She wants the baby to be born there. It’s something about citizenship.”
“So that’s the point…” the husband says, “She wants the best of both worlds, isn’t it…?”
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?
This is a story from my recently published anthology of Short Fiction COCKTAIL and I am sure you will like all the 27 stories in 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
If your are a Foodie you will like my book of Food Adventures APPETITE FOR A STROLL. Do order a copy from FLIPKART:
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. 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
vikramkarve@gmail.com
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
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July 6, 2011
Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: THE SOLUTION.
THE SOLUTION
Fiction Short Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
“I don’t know how I am going to solve this problem,” Anil said.
Yes, Anil indeed had a big problem on his hands. The problem was his old father. His father had dementia and it was getting worse day by day.
“At first it was okay. We could manage somehow. He used to forget, talk incoherently, have mood swings, get disoriented a bit, needed help doing things – we all tried our best to look after him, my wife, my two kids, all of us did all we could. But now it is becoming impossible,” Anil said.
“I know,” I said, “it must be very difficult for all of you, especially your wife.”
“All these years she really cared for him with love and devotion as if he were her own father. She tolerated his idiosyncrasies, looked after his every need, she has to bathe him, dress him, feed him, even take him to the toilet. Even when he got aggressive with her, she managed to calm him down. But after this morning’s incident she has given me the ultimatum.”
Let me tell you what had happened that morning.
I had gone to Pune Railway Station to receive my daughter who was arriving from Delhi by Duronto Express when I spotted Anil’s father wandering aimlessly on the platform from where the Deccan Queen to Mumbai was about to leave. Suddenly he started walking towards the AC Coach and was about to board the train when I stopped him, caught hold of his hand and pulled him aside. He did not recognize me. He tried to pull his hand free and when I tightened my grip he gestured towards the train and started muttering at me incoherently: “Mumbai … Duty … Mumbai … Duty …” and suddenly he got aggressive and tried to violently break free so I raised an alarm and with the help of some people we overpowered him and then he collapsed and started weeping like a child.
I called up Anil who rushed to the station and we had to literally carry him to the car. Suddenly his condition worsened and it looked like he was having a seizure so we rushed him to hospital where they admitted the old man into the ICU to keep him under observation.
We sat outside the ICU. I felt sad for Anil and his father. Anil and I were “Railway Children” who had grown up together in those typical Railway Townships which adorn big railway junctions all over India. Our fathers, both from the same batch of SCRA, were close friends and we luckily had many postings in the same station, so Anil and I became close friends too. After school we both went to IIT and now both of us lived and worked in Pune. I felt sad for Anil’s father. In the prime of his life he had such a regal commanding personality – and now dementia had reduced him to this misery in his old age.
Soon our wives, a few colleagues and friends arrive and we stand in balcony outside the ICU of the hospital brainstorming to find a solution to the problem.
“I cannot handle him anymore,” Anil’s wife says, “ever since he got this dementia, the last few years have been hell for me. Anil goes out to work, the children go to school, but I have to live with him all the time. I have to do everything, suffer his tantrums, even clean his shit, and now he does this – just runs away from home and gets lost. I can’t take it anymore – I will go crazy.”
“She needs a break,” my wife says to Anil, “why don’t you send him to your sister’s place for a few days?”
“His sister?” Anil’s wife says mockingly, “as long as her father was fine she was the doting daughter ensuring that she got her share in his property. Now that he is sick, she is shirking her responsibility and has washed her hands off him. The last time she visited us I asked her to take her father to her house in Mumbai for a few days so that we could get some respite and do you know what her husband said? He said that he didn’t want an insane man in his house as it would affect his children. So I asked him: what about our children? And Anil’s sister just kept quiet. After that they haven’t shown up. I hate her. All she does is call up once in a while and then tell the whole world how concerned she is.”
“That’s really very sad but even today it is the sons who are expected to look after their parents, especially the eldest son” someone says, and asks Anil, “You have a brother?”
“He is abroad, in America.”
“That’s the best thing to do. Escape abroad to a good life in America and forget about your parents.”
“Longevity is increasing and these old people are becoming a big problem. In our colony almost everyone’s kids are in America and their hapless parents spend a lonely existence with all sorts of health problems.”
“Don’t worry, Sir. At least your father is not as bad as my neighbour. The poor man’s brain cells are dying and he is lying like a vegetable for the last six months with tubes inserted to feed him and take his stuff out,” the recently joined software engineer tries to console Anil thinking that if she tells Anil of someone with a greater misfortune maybe he will feel some consolation but unfortunately it has the opposite effect and Anil asks her, “Did he have dementia? Will my father also become a vegetable?”
“No, nothing of that sort will happen. Your Dad will be okay,” I say putting my hand on Anil’s shoulder.
“But we can’t keep your father at home in this condition. I cannot bear it any longer. I will just collapse one day. And now he has started getting aggressive. I am scared. ” Anil’s wife says.
“Why can’t we keep in hospital?” my wife asks.
“We can’t keep him in this hospital forever,” I say.
“Not this hospital.”
“Then which hospital?”
“An institution. Where they can treat his mental problems.”
“A mental hospital? You want me to put my father into a lunatic asylum?” Anil says getting angry, “My father is not a lunatic, he has not gone mad. Poor fellow has just got dementia for which there is no cure.”
“Cool down Anil,” I say, “she didn’t mean to hurt you.”
My wife says sorry to Anil and we sit quietly till the Intensivist calls us and says, “He has stabilized now. All parameters are okay. We will move him to a special room later at night and keep him under observation. You can go home and relax now. We will look after him. You can take him home tomorrow morning.”
“You all go home,” Anil says, “I will stay with him in hospital and bring him home in the morning.”
“No,” Anil’s wife says, “I don’t want him to come home. You arrange something…”
The Intensivist looks at her quite perplexed, so I gesture to him that all is well and say to Anil, “Okay, you stay here and we will all go home and think of some solution.”
On our way home we pick up Anil’s kids and take all of them to our place. Anil’s wife sleeps in our bedroom with my wife, all the kids sleep in their room and I lie down on the sofa trying to think of a solution to Anil’s problem.
The ring of my mobile jolts me out my sleep. It is Anil. His voice sounds strange, shaky, and he cries incoherently, “The problem has been solved…the problem has been solved… my father is dead…while they were shifting him from the ICU to the ward, he got violent, the stretcher tumbled, he fell on head, broke his neck and died on the spot.”
“Oh My God,” I say, but I can still hear Anil sobbing, “Poor man. He must have heard us. So he solved the problem, his problem, our problem, everyone’s problem…” and then I can hear Anil breaking down into tears.
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. To know more please click the links below:
Do try out this delicious, heady and exciting COCKTAIL
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.
Fiction Short Stories Book
http://www.flipkart.com/appetite-stroll-vikram-karve/8190690094-gw23f9mr2o
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
Posted in creative, english, ezine, fiction, food, india, indian, karve, literature, novel, online, pune, sex, short, stories, story, travel, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, women, writing | Tags: age, author, blog, book, care, cocktail, creative, dementia, home, india, karve, old, parenting, pune, relationship, stories, vikram, vikram karve, writer, writing |
May 8, 2011
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:
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.
Fiction Short Stories Book
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
Posted in creative, english, ezine, fiction, food, india, indian, karve, literature, novel, online, pune, short, stories, story, travel, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, writing | Tags: affair, amicable, aundh, author, baner, betrayal, blog, book, children, cocktail, consent, counsel, counseling, counselling, counselor, couple, court, creative, date, dating, deccan, discord, divorce, family, fiction, flirt, fun, guide, happiness, happy, hinjewadi, iim, IIT, india, indian, infidelity, infotech, it, karve, kid, life, literature, love, marital, marriage, matrimonial, matrimony, mumbai, mutual, office, parent, parenting, park, pune, queen, railway, railways, relationship, relationships, romance, single, slice of life, step, stories, story, storytelling, travel, vikram, vikram karve, wakad, work, writer, writing |
April 1, 2011
Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve.
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 discord ’ at 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
Foodie Book:
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
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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
Posted in creative, english, ezine, fiction, food, india, indian, karve, literature, novel, online, pune, sex, short, stories, story, travel, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, women, writing | Tags: apk, author, book, books, cocktail, creative, dating, deemed, delhi, diat, divorce, dog, family, fiction, flipkart, girinagar, hinjewadi, IIT, india, indian, it, itbhu, karve, literature, love, marriage, matrimony, modern, mumbai, murder, online, parenting, park, pet, publisher, publishers, pune, relationship, relationships, romance, sherry, short, stories, story, university, vikram, vikram karve, wakad, women, work, writer, writing |
March 2, 2011
DONKEY LANGUAGE.
HOW TO TEACH A DONKEY TO READ
A Teaching Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
This morning while taking my pet dog Sherry for her morning walk in the fields of Wakad I saw a few donkeys and recalled this story:
A wise man, a renowned teacher, once publicly vowed that he would eradicate illiteracy and he would teach everyone to read.
Some mischievous boys brought a donkey to the teacher and asked him if he could teach the donkey to read.
The wise teacher stunned the students by taking up the challenge and said, “Give me the donkey for a month and I will teach it to read.”
The teacher went home and began to train his donkey to read.
At first he put the donkey into the stable and gave him no food for some days.
Then he found a thick book and put some food between the pages.
In the beginning the teacher turned the pages and gave the donkey the food between the pages.
After a while the donkey learnt to turn the pages with his tongue to find and eat the food by itself.
Each time when the donkey finished the book and found no more food between the pages it would bray: “Eee aah… Eee aah…Eee aah…”
Then the teacher would reward the donkey with some food.
Three days before the one month period was over the teacher stopped feeding the donkey.
For three full days he did not feed the donkey.
The poor starved and famished donkey, after fasting for three days without a morsel of food, was voraciously hungry.
On the fateful day when the whole school assembled to see the miracle of the donkey reading.
The wise teacher brought the ravenously hungry donkey onto the stage.
He asked for a big book and put it in front of the donkey.
The hungry donkey turned the first page of the book with its tongue and when it could not find any food the donkey brayed: “Eee aah… Eee aah…”
Then the donkey turned one more page, and again not finding any food, it cried: “Eee aah… Eee aah…”
The famished donkey kept turning the pages of the book one by one with its tongue and when it could not find any food between the pages its braying grew louder and louder and soon the hapless donkey was turning the pages and shrieking in a loud voice: “Eee aah… Eee aah…” till it reached a crescendo.
Proud of his achievement the wise teacher gave a said to the gathering: “You all have seen that the donkey has turned the pages of the book and he read it.”
One of the naughty students asked: “But we could not understand anything.”
The wise teacher replied: “Of course you could not understand what the donkey read because it was donkey language. In order to understand it you have to learn donkey language. Come to me for tuition in the evening. I will teach you donkey language.”
Moral of the Story
If you want to communicate with a “donkey”, you have to learn “donkey language”.
VIKRAM KARVE
PS – I always remember this story while training my pet dog Sherry. In fact, not only have I learnt her “dog language” but I have taught her my “human language” too.
Yes, I will tell you how I did it sometime later in my blog.
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
Posted in creative, english, india, indian, karve, pune, stories, story, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, writing | Tags: author, children, cocktail, dog, donkey, education, food, hinjewadi, humor, karve, moral, parenting, pet, pune, relationship, relationships, sherry, stories, storytelling, teaching, training, vikram, vikram karve, wakad, writer, writing |
February 12, 2011
Academic and Creative Writing Journal 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.
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
Posted in creative, english, ezine, fiction, food, india, indian, karve, literature, novel, online, pune, sex, short, stories, story, travel, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, women, writing | Tags: art of living, aundh, author, baner, bavdhan, bhu, bibwewadi, book, bookstore, bpo, camp, career, character, chic lit, chick lit, city, cocktail, communication, corporate, creative, dating, deccan, deemed, delhi, diat, divorce, dog, eat, ebook, education, electronic, engineering, english, faculty, fiction, food, girinagar, gymkhana, hinjewadi, iipm, IIT, india, indian, infotech, internet, it, itbhu, ites, karve, khadki, kondhwa, launch, library, life, love, lovedale, mall, management, marriage, matrimonial, matrimony, mba, multiplex, mumbai, online, parent, parenting, park, pashan, pet, peth. road, plot, pr, professor, property, pune, queen, relationship, relationships, rohan, rohan tarang, romance, romantic, sadashiv, setting, sex, sexy, shop, short, sindh, single, society, store, stories, story, sus, suspense, tale, tarang, teaching, technology, teen, theme, trainer, travel, university, v karve, v w karve, vikram, vikram karve, vikram waman karve, wakad, women, writer, writing |
Short Fiction by Vikram Karve 