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Ritika Sawhney win a Rs.300 gift voucher from our sponsors Zaarga, for her fun entry to our Love Story theme.
A little tattoo for Love – too much to ask? Ritika Sawhney wins a Rs.300 gift voucher from our sponsors Zaarga, for her fun entry to our Love Story writing theme.
Ritika, in her own words: A social media junkie, bibliophile, traveller and sometimes worker (yes, she is a cubicle-slave). She believes she can write, do you?
“I would do anything for Love, but I won’t do THAT!”
“Quit talking in cheesy lines from forgotten numbers, will you?” I snarled.
“Hey, that’s not fair“, he argued. “If we’re going to talk about using cheesy lines, then I am going to have to…have to…” he trailed off.
“Ha. Couldn’t remember an instance of me using a cheesy line, na? Maybe that’s because, I DON’T?”
Of course, I knew I was being unfair to the poor guy. I probably had used cheesy lines like that myself any number of times, but given his memory or lack of it, I got away.
And what was at stake wasn’t really the question of using lines from forgotten numbers, cheesy or not. You may not think of this as a big deal, but if you’ve ever had the experience of the man of your dreams claiming that he would climb the stars and fetch the moon for you, yet refusing to get a teensy little tattoo done on his broad shoulders (well, one of them) purely on the grounds of ‘I hate needles’, you’ll know what I am talking about.
I mean, c’mon, it’s not like I was asking him to get the American eagle etched all over his broad frame, with its wings artistically falling off his shoulders, although I admit that would look good too. All I was asking for was a few lines – a little heart (and not in pretty pink, but a very masculine, deep red) and it would be quid pro quo – I was planning to get a little heart done too. Does the lady ask too much?
And it got me wondering. Was it really a fear of needles, or a fear of the permanence a heart implied? I mean, was he thinking that this summer was only one installment of what would be an endless number of summers with an endless number of girls?
“You don’t really love me. You’re already thinking of what your next girlfriend will say about the heart.”
“C’mon jaan, it’s not that. I will never love anyone else, you know that,” he protested.
“Then prove it!”
The next day, we went off to Brahma’s. A bunch of folks from my class had got their tattoos done with them, and lived to tell the tale; infection-free.
He went first. He said it would be easier if he didn’t have to watch me wincing through it. I watched him instead, gritting his teeth and what was worse, not even bothering to wipe the tears that rolled down his cheeks.
It was over in a few minutes, but it seemed to last at least an hour; at the end of which, while he was putting on his shirt, I quietly slunk out of the parlour and ran down the street.
“Hey, where are you going? That’s not fair!” I could hear him screaming. “You come back here now! NOW!”
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*Photo credit: Pablot
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Women today don’t want to be in a partnership that complicates their lives further. They need an equal partner with whom they can figure out life as a team, playing by each other’s strengths.
We all are familiar with that one annoying aunty who is more interested in our marital status than in the dessert counter at a wedding. But these aunties have somehow become obsolete now. Now they are replaced by men we have in our lives. Friends, family, and even work colleagues. It’s the men who are worried about why we are not saying yes to one among their clans. What is wrong with us? Aren’t we scared of dying alone? Like them?
A recent interaction with a guy friend of mine turned sour when he lectured me about how I would regret not getting married at the right time. He lectured that every event in our lives needs to be completed within a certain timeframe set by society else we are doomed. I wasn’t angry. I was just disappointed to realize that annoying aunties are rapidly doubling in our society. And they don’t just appear at weddings or family functions anymore. They are everywhere. They are the real pandemic.
Let’s examine this a little closer.
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