About Me

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Mumbai, Maharastra, India
Born in Mumbai, my earliest memory in life is a story. A story that said – perhaps I was adopted. Every person has a story to tell. I like to listen and most of them form the base for the stories I write. I also teach creative writing to students and professionals from all walks of life. Many have a story to tell...I help them to pen it down. I also edit, guide and help students create Statement of Purposes, LORs, Resumes and Personal Essays for their Study Abroad documentations. Please go through the samples of the SOPs done by me...I work via the electronic media with students at a global level. I also help corporates as well as individuals in regards to handling all their communication needs. Brochures, newsletters, pamphlets or press releases are delivered under strict time-lines and as per international quality.

Friday, June 19, 2015

A Life Better Than Yours...


The sound of her Reebok soles hitting the paved walkway sounded pleasant to her. It was a sign… she was hale and hearty, healthy enough to run at this age. Jogging was a passion that has remained with her all through these years. She looked at her watch. Exact 5 am. Reshma parked her car just opposite the Air India building on Marine Drive and started stretching. Very soon she would start her jog. One hour at a stretch! She was here on most days from 5 to around 6.30. Though she had been coming here since ages, she was not a part of the many groups that dotted this famous skyline of Mumbai. She was a loner and preferred to be that way. Running uncluttered her mind. It also helped her clear some cobwebs from the deep recesses of her mind.

Wearing military green track pants and a white T shirt, Reshma appeared to be in her mid-thirties when she was in reality, close to hitting 50. An athlete all through her life she had seen more losses than gains, be it in games or in life. She smiled to herself. She was happy with the way her life went by though it was not picture perfect.  Her thoughts were side-tracked by a very young girl in a fluorescent green top and red cycling shorts, as she came running towards her. She was lean, around 5’ 10” and had skin as smooth as marble. She had a small dog running ahead of her. Her hair was auburn and tied atop her head from where the curls bobbed to each side of her face as she ran. As they crossed each other, Reshma smiled and wished her “Good Morning”. Interesting life she must be having thought Reshma. The girl looked well in control of her life. The girl smiled back “morning maam”. 


Sonia usually ran for a little over 90 minutes but today she felt very lethargic. She was missing Ayushman and she knew he had no place in her life anymore. She was forced to come because her dog loved to run as much as her. But today was different. Sonia felt the only person who loved her unconditionally was her dog, Rocky. All others, including her parents loved her because she was the golden goose. Sonia allowed Rocky to run without a leash and she ran after him with unrestrained vigour and energy. A woman who seemed to be in her mid-thirties wished her a good morning. Sonia wished her back but wondered what was so good this morning! Unlike the other models in her industry, she neither smoked, nor drank nor snorted any dope.
Reshma continued to run for another hour before she stopped next to her car to retrieve the bottle of water. Sipping the cool water, she returned and sat down on the parapet. The chaiwala, a regular guy, stopped by her and said, ”Good morning Madham, Howh areh youh?” “Sab thik” would reply Reshma. This was their daily way of greeting; with the chaiwala not wanting to speak in Hindi and Reshma trying to push the message that talking in English was not a necessity! The message did not seem to have made an effect all these years. The chaiwala gave her a steaming hot cup of chai in a white disposable cup and she handed him a 50 rupee note. That would suffice for a week and Reshma did this as a routine every Sunday. She sipped on her chai and looked blankly at the sea, silent on the surface but turbulent inside. It was 6 and the sky had turned a crimson red. Very soon, the Sun would rise and be on its way. She got up, she too had to be on her way… she had to reach the academy by 7.

Almost 30 years back, she missed winning the National Badminton title by a whisker, she was only 19. Though she lost she was noticed by Norma, a sports goods manufacturing company. They asked her to model for their brand and she readily agreed. Knowing that her career as an athlete may not take off that well in the absence of a coach or mentor, she chose to start work as soon as she graduated.  She expressed her interest in working with Norma and they readily agreed. They chose her as a regional sales representative and she used her charm in getting orders for her company. Norma manufactured Tennis rackets and Reshma had the appeal to sell the products.  Aged 22, she was pleased as a punch to have found a dream job and the disappointment of losing the National title, easily disappeared into the realms of the past. An orphan, she was glad to have a life of her own.  That’s when her real troubles started.

A whirlwind romance with the wrong person left her a divorcee by the time she was 25. Fortunately, there were no kids. Professionally she did well. She was a good sales person and had the convincing power to sell ice to an Eskimo. Professionally she did well. However, relationships remained a problem. Men came and left, either she left them or they left her. After a few years it did not matter. Her work gave her the high. In the last 2 decades, she worked for most part of her life and did nothing apart from it. A workaholic, the only time she took leave was for those 6 months that haunted her till date.

Around six years back, she decided to set up a coaching academy for Badminton. By hobnobbing with the right kind of people, she set up an academy that attracted a lot of investors. She hired the right people, crafted intensive training schedules, kept a tight rein on the budget and her academy was a hit. Within the next 5 years, she repaid all the loans. Friends and family envied her success and her independence. Some women gossiped amongst themselves about the lack of men or children in her life. No one knew, and most times Reshma too loved to forget the fact that she was a mother too and she too had loved once. Jatin, was the regional sales head in for a competitor company in Delhi.  Though he was married, both walked the forbidden path which unfortunately resulted in Reshma getting pregnant. Reshma left her job before her pregnancy started showing and shifted to Delhi where no one knew her and she was closer to Jatin. Jatin and Reshma were truly in love and Jatin was sure his divorce would come through but that did not happen as his mother objected tooth and nail. Jatin succumbed to family pressure and blackmail from his own mother and a 7 month pregnant Reshma was left alone. She had no option but to carry her term to maturity. She gave up the baby to an adoption centre. She had no plans of raising a child when she herself was unsure about living the right kind of life. She was 32 then. After giving up the baby, she shifted back to Mumbai and started working with Pioneer, a global sporting goods company. Pioneer had valued her expertise and roped her in as a Global Head. She was thrilled with the challenge and gave her 100% to the job.  Today, she grieved about her selfish act. Had she kept the child, she would have been as old as the girl in the fluorescent top!   It would have felt great to have someone you can call your own…she was pensive for a moment but then she smiled at herself and got up and headed towards her car. Life is a mystery…just go on with it was her motto. She was not the sentimental kind. Life made her that.

Ratan saw Reshma walk up to her car. This way he knew the time would be around 6. Maam looks so happy, thought Ratan. He has been seeing her for the past 5 to 6 years and he offered her chai exactly the way she wanted it just after her run. Ratan had his pulse on every runner and walker on the stretch. With an auto reminder set inside his head he would stop by each one exactly a minute after they settled down. He had the monopoly of being the only chaiwala in the entire stretch. The others started coming in only by 7. He admired the morning joggers for the lifestyles they led. Lucky people to be able to drive such fancy cars, do what they like especially early mornings! They must be such happy people!!!

Chai Madham? He asked the girl in the fluorescent green top with the dog. Both were sitting on the parapet waiting for the sun to rise. She first fiddled for some change then nodded in the affirmative. 

Sonia had just finished her run. As she ran she recounted the events of the last week. Her live in boyfriend, Ayushman had brought a very young girl home and had placed a bizarre demand of all three sleeping in the same bed. When Sonia refused, Ayushman smacked her face with the bottle in his hand. Pain seeped into her entire being. Pieces of glass scraped through her cheeks. The area near her eye got badly bruised.  In pain Sonia, ran inside the bathroom, locked herself in. She called the police. Help reached almost instantly and she was rescued from the drunk and violent Ayushman. The girl was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she sensed danger and chose to disappear. Sonia did not press any charges. She loved Ayushman, no matter how bad he behaved. But this time, with police protection, she removed every inch of his presence from their home. She threw him out, literally. Since last one week, only she and Rocky lived here.

She finished her tea and got up. She planned to jog. She felt better with the hot cup of strong ginger flavoured chai. Ayushman was livid with Sonia. He vowed to ruin her life and had been coming to Marine Drive every morning with a plan. Unaware of his presence on the parapet, Sonia continued to walk with the dog. It was only 6.15 am and Ayushman hated to wake this early every day. Today, he must find an opportunity to throw acid on her face…he did not want to come back tomorrow. He wanted to sleep in peace.

Ratan saw her again, the plump woman with a pleasant face but today she was late. It was almost 6.30. He smiled at himself when he realised what she was doing. She had been coming to the same spot, just opposite the Air India building but Ratan had never seen her run or walk. She would just sit by the ledge and stare into the sea.  Maybe somebody told her running on Marine drive was a healthy activity and she chose to partially listen to it. Ratan used to offer her his special chai many times but she always refused and now he stopped asking. She was wearing a light blue track pant that had the embossing of a non-descript brand. She wore a very loose black T-shirt which probably hid her plumpness. She was short, about 5 feet but she looked pleasant. Ratan wished she bought his chai. He knew she was not affluent but then that was more his type of woman. Maybe they could become friends?

Ratan shook himself out of his reverie. How easy it was for him to get lazy. He whacked himself on his head and looked around for a sale. Then he saw Babuji. Babuji was not seen for a few months and Ratan assumed he was dead. That’s what actually happened to old people who came there for a walk. Those who discontinued were either ill or dead. Ratan ran towards where Babuji was sitting. As he neared him, he could hear the familiar tunes of some old hindi classics emanating from Babuji’s cellphone.

Namaste babuji, Maaji where? You not coming, I not seeing?


Babuji smiled at Ratan, took his chai and pointed towards the sky. Ratan was dismayed and shocked. But he did not know what to say so he quietly slipped out from there after pocketing his change. Everyone has to die, of course, but what does it do to the people who are left behind? He missed his beautiful wife Kala. Some said his 2 year old daughter looked just like her but he never went back to his village.

A tall but frail figure, Babuji was still in mourning. He was wearing brown khakhi pants, the ones he wore for his daily morning walks and a white shirt. He had not yet learned how to survive without his Malati. He and Malati had been married for 58 long years when she was just 16 and he was 20. Babuji sipped the chai and looked into the sea. The rising sun had turned the horizon a crimson red.

Malati had left him all of a sudden last month, quiet unfair, he thought. Between the two he was the one who was unhealthy. He was the one who had diabetes and blood pressure. But she chose to go in her sleep. His life partner broke the deal. What a fickle deal! Back home, his three children, one daughter and two sons fought amongst each other to take him to their home. Thanks to Malati, the children had values. All were well settled and loved him to the core. He decided to stay with his youngest son Nipun, for Nipun had a 3 year old daughter Niyati, who was an exact replica of Malati. The other grand children were older and busy to pay much attention to him but little Niyati would scream with joy whenever she was around Babuji. Niyati kept looking for Aaji and he had to tell her that Aaji has gone on a very long tour.

“Ask her to bring me some toys and chocolates when she returns or else I will never speak to her”, moaned Niyati. Right, me too, added Ramnath. Then they would start their games without Aaji.

No one objected to his choice of living with Nipun as their objective was not to let their 78 year old father live alone. They gave their fathers house on rent and the amount kept adding into his pile of savings, of which he was not allowed to use any, except gift the kids during festivals and birthdays.

Everyone in the Nana Nani Park said he was a lucky old guy. Money was never a problem. But he missed Malati. He did not know how having money was equivalent to not having Malati by his side. How can one be happy with money?

All have to go one day. But Malati went before him. This was not what he had planned. He had planned that during his last moments he would confess to her. The one single mistake of his life. He felt miserable for not having been true to her. He regretted he hid a lie from her. Will she find out now that she is in heaven and has access to all the books? The thought devastated him. He did not know why he behaved in that manner. He was not a young teenager but a very mature gentleman of 48 when he had met a young energetic girl who was in her thirties. Both of them were in the same profession and had met quite a few times over work which most times transcended to drinks and dinner. He was so overpowered by lust that one day he proposed they go for an overnight trip. She was single and had no qualms. They went to a nearby hill station on a Saturday morning and planned to stay overnight but Babuji did not know himself.  Babuji had never done something like this before but the desire to step into the unknown was so intense that he perhaps lost his marbles. However, once they were in the room, he felt very uneasy lying next to another woman. He was surprised that his lust hid under a thick blanket and failed to rise from there. He made some flimsy excuse and left the resort the same day. The girl did not mind this either. That night back home in his room, while Malati slept next to him, he decided to forget his day time adventure as a bad dream. The guilt nagged him all through but he never had the heart to admit to Malati. He took another sip from the cup. The cup was empty. As empty as his soul.

Time to leave. He had not walked today. That’s bad for his health. If Malati was around, she would force him to walk.  He missed Malati. This is not what he had planned. Does life allow us to plan? He shook his head, got up and walked with energised steps towards home. Little Niyati would be waiting for him.

Ranjana was wearing her favorite blue track pants that a client had gifted her. She was wearing a red T shirt that she had bought off Fashion Street. But today, she was in no mood to jog. One can’t vouch she ever did on other days. But today was special day. Perhaps her last day! She made a mental note of the chaiwala who was talking to a young girl. She had several times caught the chaiwala stealing a glimpse in her direction, more so after she refused his chai umpteen times.


At work, she chose to wear black jeans and tight fitting black T shirt that showed off her ample curves and also gave a peek a boo into her most valuable assets whenever she bent over a client. Ranjana was 35 years old and had a past that still gave her nightmares. Eldest of 5 siblings, she had a horrific childhood.  Her mother worked as a maid and was out most of the time. Her father’s only priority in life was to beat up her mother for money, for sex, for food not necessarily in that order. Once when her mother was away, her father shooed the boys out of the house and forced her to do all the household chores …in the nude. She was a blossoming young girl of 13 but was too afraid of her father. She obeyed. He would later do things to her that nauseated her till date. Her mother sensed something was wrong but did nothing much but get her married by the time she was 15. Ranjana felt happy to leave the hell hole and embraced her husband Sumit and his family as her own. She won everyone’s heart including Sumit’s. Life was smooth though Sumit earned a measly salary of 5000 as an office peon. Her mother-in-law too worked as a maid but Ranjana wanted the old lady to stop working. She pleaded with Mona, a beautician living nearby to teach her the ropes and interned with her free of charge. Very soon, she learnt the ropes and then worked as an assistant to the beautician. All was well. She had two beautiful children. Life went on. She worked hard and so did Sumit. 15 years went by. The boys were on the threshold of entering college when disaster struck in the form of an accident. Sumit was coming back from Shirdi with his mother when their bus met with an accident. Ranjana lost everything in an instant. It took her a while to come to terms with reality. The boys were her only strength. She needed money and it was hard to come by. Mona suggested she sell this home, invest most of it for a steady income and use some to secure a house on rent and manage general expenses. Mona encouraged her to start her own parlour. Thus Rosy’s parlour came into existence. Her home cum parlour was not more than 200 square feet in xyz place near xyz. The room was self-contained and well ventilated. She and the boys were happy with the setup and that was all that mattered. Her business picked up fine as there was no parlour in that area. She sent her sons to the same boarding school where Mona’s children went.  She could not run the parlour with the boys coming in and out of the house.

Few years passed and Ranjana was doing well. Her elder son now wanted to join an engineering college and she had saved the required amount. However, she was short of about 20 thousand rupees. She shared her concern with Mona.

Why don’t you go and ask Mehta for a loan?

I hardly know him, Mona.

Go and ask and get to know him well. Then ask for it.

Mehta ran a courier service agency and was Mona’s regular client. Ranjana decided to meet Mehta.

One evening, around 8pm, she went to meet Mehta. She had just shut her parlour and Mehta was also closing his office.

Hey Ranjana, what brings you here?

Ranjana smiled. Sir, I need a small favour.

Good you came. I too need a small favour. You see the bottle there? Go and get it. My head hurts like hell today. Was planning to visit Mona, but now that you are here why you don’t give me one of those heady massages?

Sure sir. That was the start of many other “Sure sir’s”. It was easy money and it did not harm anybody. There were additions to Mehta. She was particularly fond of one Shravan, a 26 year old executive who often came to her for a head massage. Most of the times, he was dressed in a white kurta pyjama and he stayed overnight. The neighbours gossiped about her. Raised a complaint with the landlord and when the landlord came to visit her late one night to seek an explanation she offered him her specialised head massage. He left the next morning. The neighbours were silenced. Some moved out from the locality, others remained.  She spoke to none. She was happy with her customers. Whenever her sons returned for vacations, she would stop her services for that brief period. As all her clients visited with prior appointments she could stall any of the regular men from coming home. Her clients understood. She was a proud mother for she was able to impart the best academic opportunities her sons deserved. She was a good wife too but when there was no husband around and she was not one of those who could talk and share things with a photograph or a memory. She too had her needs and she saw that it was fulfilled. She liked Shravan the most and would always look forward to his visits.

From the time she deviated from her parlour business, Ranjana found time to take a fresh morning walk at marine drive. She would reach there every day by 7am and sit and watch the waves lashing the rocks. She hardly walked or jogged. Tried a few times but gave up simultaneously. Her health was an issue. She lost 10 kgs in the last 2 months. She constantly developed cold and fever and felt weak. From a rotund 65kg she was now 55kg and though she was happy with her weight loss she hated her low immunity.

One day she got a call from Shravan. When she picked up, a woman spoke to her.

Hello, is this Saraswati Devi Maa?

Yes, murmured Ranjana.

Mataji, I am Shravans aunt. We believe Shravan worshipped you in some way. He often used to speak about finding peace in your sermons. I have called you to inform you about the tragic demise of Shravan. His soul will be at peace if you could come for his condolence ceremony tomorrow evening. I will message you the address. Namaste Mataji.

Namaste, said a shocked Ranjana.

Shravan…and dead? How?

Ranajana was back on Marine Drive. Today she was late…it was almost 7. The chaiwala kept looking at her like he did every day. However, today her mind was on something else. She looked into the ocean. Her vision was blurred.

She had been crying all through last evening. She had gone for Shravan’s funeral but nobody asked her who she was. She heard a familiar voice, probably the same aunt who was asking another woman if saraswati maa had arrived.

Ranajana moved away from there and went and sat far away from Shravans photograph. She sat there for over 30 minutes not knowing what was happening as a soothing voice kept singing one bhajan after the other. She felt disturbed by the murmur of few women. She turned to look back and saw three women in white; all in their early thirties giggle and raise eyebrows.

God rest his soul. He was never happy with his life.

Yes, I heard he refused to join the family business and joined one of the top most financial companies in India.

He was too stressed yaar. He never joined us for parties.

Stress? I heard he was habituated to visiting these Russian girls. That’s how he contracted aids and that’s why he chose to jump off the Worli Seaface.

The other two women raised their eyebrows so high that it seemed to vanish into their scalps.

I am not joking. Since the last few months, he lost weight drastically and often kept unwell.

Finally, I think he got fed up of his sick life!

The whole world swam in front of Ranjanas eyes. She sat there like a statue and tears welled up in her eyes. Fortunately, she was in a place where everyone grieved so she did not stand out. She composed herself and left the place quietly. She cried and cried not knowing what to do. Shravan…and aids?

Chai? Ranjana looked at the chaiwala. For the first time in her life, she said, yes and smiled at the chaiwala. It was perhaps the last time she would interact with someone. She planned to take a cab to worli seaface right after her chai.

Ratan was feeling very happy. It was 7. Today not only did he do good business but even the plump lady bought his chai. Perhaps in the next few days, he could be friends with her.


Most days, 6am to 8am was a busy morning for Ratan. He had to cater to the regular joggers who came to Marine Drive. Very few youngsters had chai but most elders, men as well as women loved their morning cup from him. After a jog, they would often sit in group, chit chat or at times sing songs. Even though he was busy he had a close watch on a short plump woman whom he intensely liked. There were no tell-tale signs of her being married nor did any man ever escort her during her walks. Ratan had lost his wife, his pretty Bela, to child birth. His two year old daughter resembled Bela and his mother took care of her. He wished to marry again but have not been able to meet someone who would make him want to marry. This plump woman seemed to have that elusive charm. How he wished he could send his mother to her house to ask for her hand! But he hardly knew her. Today, he mustered courage and walked up to her direction. He decided to pester her till she bought his chai. He would then not let her pay. They may then become friends….

Fortunately for him, today she said “yes” to his chai….that too without him having to pester her…it’s a good omen. Tomorrow, perhaps he can speak a few words with her. He blushed. He was a shy person by nature and he liked this plump woman. She too seemed like a reserved person. They seemed to be a perfect match.

3 comments:

Sree Raghu.Kanda said...

A good beginning, Suparna. It is a fact that everybody has their own share of problems, while everything seems rosy at the outset on the other side.

Ravinder Singh said...

Very interesting and absorbing story. Excellent narration - can visualise and almost touch all the characters. Please publish next episode soon.

Unknown said...

Hello mam, tried contacting u for sop,