Skip to main content

Excerpt from Loves Lost







It's spring and love is in the air. In keeping with the spirit of the season, I wanted to share with you an excerpt of the story "Love Came Calling Again" from my book "Loves Lost".

I have always wanted to "feel" the love for someone, more than "being loved" and pampered.

I missed having someone in my life I would feel like cuddling with, on the couch in front of the TV with a tub of popcorn on a rainy evening, or someone I would just be happy buying things for, even if he didn’t need any of those. I missed being unreasonably possessive about someone. I wanted every romantic song I heard to throw up images of me in the arms of that special someone. I’ve always wanted someone to think of when it rained and the earth smelt sweet; I’ve always waited for a name I could whisper with my heart and soul, while clinging to my pillows under a warm blanket on a cold winter night. I spent my days and nights with that dream. And when I would meet him, there would be chimes in the air and a light drizzle, and an unruly breeze would play with my dupatta before his passionate gaze.

And then I met Karan. His father was a manager in one of the companies Dad owned in Kolkata and we met in one of Dad’s office parties I had reluctantly accompanied him to. I learnt later that Karan had been a reluctant guest as well.

The colour of my nails was fading; he had not bothered to shave and had a three-day old stubble. But, love caught us unawares as our eyes talked and our hearts made silent promises—with the live band playing out requests from drunken guests.

Karan worked in Mumbai and I was about to finish my studies in Kolkata. We soon realized that staying apart was not an option anymore. I found a job in Mumbai after university and moved in with him, setting up our home with love in our hearts and dreams in our eyes—leaving our conservative families shocked.

Within a year, the unexpected happened...

Read Loves Lost at:



Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Book Review - Poems by Subhadip Mukherjee

Ernest Hemingway said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Reading the poetry of Subhadip Mukherjee in his book ‘ ছেঁড়া চিন্তার Scribbles’ (Offtrack Publishers, co-authored by Dr. Kausik Ghosh), I am convinced that he is bleeding. And that’s good news. Subhadip is a nagorik kobiyal. His poems hold mirror to the stifling urban life with its rat race, with its mindless pursuit of  materialistic ambitions, and with its consumerism. নাগরিক ব্যস্ততা নানা জটিলতা... দাশু বারবার কিস্তিমাত He mocks the same judgemental urban society right in his introduction when he says: যদি তাকে চিনে থাকো যদি তাকে জেনে থাকো Boss, বেশী . মিশোনা তার সাথে সামান্য নেশা হবে ... তুমিও " খারাপ " হবে দেরি হবে রোজ রাত্তিরে Subhadip’s poems paint love in its myriad hues – from extreme euphoria to brooding despondency. Subhadip depicts the unadulterated purity of love when he says: তুই ক্লাস নাইনৈর খাতার
1 comment
Read more

The Sinners: Extract #1

  Aarti was with Vikram in her one-bedroom flat. It had been raining for quite some time - the dirt washed away, street lights reflected on the wet roads. There were distant rumbles in the evening sky, sounding almost ominous. Very few cars sped down the empty road below. The room was half-lit by a single lamp on the study desk.   It was just the two of them inside the flat. They had returned a while back after dining at the Marriott in Juhu.   “I’ve been missing you for days, Vikram! I don’t remember when we met last,” Aarti’s voice rose a couple of notches, the resentment in her tone pronounced. “And when we met today after weeks, we ended up fighting.”   There were beads of sweat on Aarti’s temples and above her lips. She was visibly tense. There was a bad taste in her mouth, not the kind you carry home after a dinner at the Marriott. Vikram tried to pull her closer but Aarti freed herself and walked away towards the desk. She looked away, trying to hide the tears that were th
Post a Comment
Read more

Decoding Marriage - An excerpt from 'An Autumn Turmoil'

  Most of us have a glorified idea about love. I think it comes from the staple diet of Bollywood movies we are all brought up on. Couples strolling on the beach, watching the sunset together, whispering promises of eternity into each other’s ear, and making love on satin sheets in wooden cottages overlooking the Swiss Alps. But life does not play out like this. The movies do not show the truth, what happens backstage. The love fades. The promises lose meaning. And the lovemaking goes from being a passion to a duty, something a married couple ‘is supposed to do at bed time.’ Before long, you reach that stage, where you can count the number of times you do it every month on your fingers, with a couple of fingers to spare. And you surrender to the monotony. The husband and the wife start living separate lives under the same roof – all in the name of security, comfort, marital bliss and sometimes, the fear of what ‘everyone would say’. Abhishek and I are fast approaching that stage in our
Post a Comment
Read more