Tuesday, 9 February 2016

“Do Miss Me…!!





It was again a long tiring day with Sanjana, we had great fun that day. I love everything about her the way she talks, the way she treats me, her voice, her soft long black hairs. Her touch takes me to the ecstasy. It seems to be in a different world when she is with me. She has become everything to me in no time. After dropping her, I drove home with her thoughts in my mind.

 When I got home that night, my wife Richa served dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again, I observed the pain in her eyes. I do not know how to break the news to her that “I want a divorce”. I raised the topic calmly.
She did not seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?  I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the cutlery and shouted at me, “You are not a man!” That night, we did not talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to know the reason behind the failure of our marriage. But, I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer. She had lost my heart to Sanjana. I did not love her anymore.
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.  She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger, a freaking arrogant woman. Finally, she cried loudly in front of me, which was as expected.  The idea of divorce which I was thinking from several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I skipped dinner with her and went straight to sleep and I fell asleep very fast because I was tired after another eventful day with Sanjana.  When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care, so I turned over and was asleep again.
In the morning, she presented her divorce conditions. She did not want anything from me, but needed a month with me before the divorce. She requested that in that one month, we both will try to live a normal life as before. Her reasons were simple.  Our son had his exams in a month’s time and she did not want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into our bridal room on our wedding night.  She requested that every day for the month’s duration I should carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable, I accepted her odd request.
I told Sanjana about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applied, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.
My wife and I met nobody since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So, when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son Rahul clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down on the couch. She whispered in my ear -“Do Miss Me”. I noticed she has become very lazy and never go out of the house but I over looked the fact and drove to office. And after that day it has become like a goodbye ritual to her and her only words were –“Do miss me”.
On the second day, both of us were at ease. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her perfume. I realized that I have not looked at this woman carefully from a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.  On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I did not tell Sanjana about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.
For Rahul, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last-minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tight, it was just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad she has gone so lean and weak. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, ‘I have not noticed that our life lacked intimacy’. I drove to office and jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind.  I walked upstairs. Sanjana opened the door and I said to her, Sorry Sanjana, I do not want the divorce anymore.
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever, she said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry Sanjana, I said, I do not want the divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I did not value the details of our lives, not because we did not love each other anymore. Now, I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day, I am supposed to hold her until deaths do us apart.
Sanjana seemed to be in a shock. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.  At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for Richa. The sales girl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, “I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart” and “I do miss you”.
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find a note written by my wife which read “Its time ….let’s move on”.
 A sense of shock went through my spine and my hidden fear gripped me and I was not able to stand on my feet. My wife moved out without intimating me and not even giving me a chance to explain.
My home has become just an apartment in no matter of time, I felt everything around me is cursing me for what I have done to her, guilt filled my veins and I felt a sense of urgency to meet her, to extend my love and feelings to her but she was gone.
 A week passed by and there were no traces of my wife, I remember that Monday when I heard my sons voices in house compound it brought a new life to me and as I opened the door he hugged me tight and asked- “Hey Dad where is mom?”- I was stunned with a thought that if my son and my wife were not together than where is she and where had been my son for so long? I calmly asked Rahul, where he had been? He replied, I was on my after exams school trip and mom dropped me last weekend at school and she said she is having a little work in a nearby hospital and she will be back soon after your dad returns HOME. His answer took me to the hell and reminded me of my biggest sin.
His words kept resonating in my head and I straight away headed for city hospital. That was last February, when she was complaining about headache, she got her all diagnostic tests done but as I was busy with Sanjana I never cared about it.
 As I reached the hospital my life crashed with reality.
My wife had been fighting terminal brain tumor for months and I was so busy with Sanjana to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce. At least, in the eyes of our son— I’m a loving husband and a caring dad, which actually I was not.

I held her tight in my arms and a tear roll down my cheek, I can feel her lean and week body. My arrogance and ignorance took a toll on her. I was crying and I noticed a weak smile on her dried and cracked lips and hugged her tight to assure her that I am there with her till my last breath, with her closed eyes she cuddled me and whispered in my ears..“Do miss me……………………..”

Tuesday, 15 September 2015

WOW...Words of Wisdom: Bird of Paradise

WOW...Words of Wisdom: Bird of Paradise: Bird Of Paradise The thing I hate the most in my life is my alarm clock . As usual , it started haunting me at 6 in the morning and I...

Saturday, 12 September 2015

Bird of Paradise

Bird Of Paradise

The thing I hate the most in my life is my alarm clock. As usual, it started haunting me at 6 in the morning and I plunked it under my pillow to take a small nap. After a long tiring schedule of up-town business  meetings I have to board the first train back to home because its my anniversary  today. I jumped out of my bed and left the hotel room in rush.

Last night, she was very upset and annoyed because I did not wish her. To compensate my mistake, I called her and asked what present should I get for her. In reply, she just hung up on me.

After a few momentary seconds a message beeped, it was from Suzan, my wife. The message read..”Bird of Paradise”. I realized soon that she wants this thing but to my surprise I was not able to understand why she need a bird as gift  on our anniversary, and how I am going to find this rare bird even when I have not heard the name of this creature before.

I decided not to let go this time and anyhow I will get this gift for her. I started with a pet store and soon I realized that I almost visited all the pet stores and pet markets in the town but the agony of the moment was in fact the pet dealers did not have any idea about this bird.

Later,in the evening I realized that Suzan has just played a prank on me and there is no such bird exists in this world.

To compensate that impossible gift I fetched my neighborhood florist. A beautiful young lady greeted me. As I was visiting the store for the first time, she might have understood my confusion. I murmured –I need flowers for my anniversary.

The lady started to help me in buying good flowers and I was awestruck with the beauty and elegance of each flower, she showed me Roses, Carnations, Gerberas, Orchids, Lilies, Daisies and so many flowers. Meanwhile, I noticed a bucket full of flowers kept in the center aisle of the store. Those long stick flowers with orange and purple blossoms were so fascinating and magnificent. I held the flower in my hand and asked the lady about the flower.

And then what the lady explained took me to the grounds of reality…


“Sir this is known as 10thAnniversay flower, symbolize magnificence and splendor – celebrating romance's unexpected side,Resembling one of the most striking, exotic birds in the world, with large orange and blue blossoms, this flower is known as Bird of Paradise’.

I stood silent for few moments and asked the lady to pack those flowers  for me.

While heading  back home, thoughts of morning fight with Suzan and a decade of her love and sacrifice caught me. Yes,  its definitely  unexpected side of romance  which Suzan taught me today and unfortunately it took me ten long years to understand this.

She opened the door, she looked stunning in a red evening gown. I noticed she was busy with daily chores without expecting any thing from me. I held her hand and greeted with a bunch of her desired flowers. A tear rolled down her cheeks with a smile of baby, I hugged her tight as If it  was my first and last hug, cuddled her tight and whispered – Happy Anniversary to the lady of my  life, my Bird of Paradise”.



-“Thanks Suzan for bringing me back home”….I am Home Again :  Amen

-Sachin Singh







Saturday, 5 September 2015

The Teacher

The Teacher


 At the age of mid sixties everything seems to be so perfect and satisfying, but at times life has something to lean on to.

Dr. Sharma has received the highest honorary awards for serving the humanity and for developing remedy for terminal illness of cancer, one day while sitting on that park bench watching sun set, a tear roll down his cheeks, taking him back to the fond memories of Mrs. Mukherjee, the most humble person in his life.

Ram Sharma, a poor weak boy of fifth grade sitting on the last bench with a weird look. His clothes were un-kept and he constantly needed a bath and was unpleasant. That was the first thing Mrs. Mukherjee noticed when she joined the school.

This boy is very different from others.   

Mrs. Mukherjee stood in front of her fifth-grade class on the very first day of school in the fall and told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same, that she would treat them all alike. And that was impossible because there in front of her, slumped in his seat on the last row, was a little boy named Ram.

In a very less time Mrs. Mukherjee realized that Ram is a useless boy with lots of arrogance, ill manners , even that he does not respond to the questions asked to him.

But eventually she was required to review each child's records and put Ram’s off until last. When she opened his file, she was in for a surprise.

His first-grade teacher wrote, "Ram is a bright, inquisitive child with a ready laugh." "He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around."

His second-grade teacher wrote, "Ram is an excellent student well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third-grade teacher wrote, "Ram continues to work hard but his mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Ram's fourth-grade teacher wrote, "Ram is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class. He is tardy and could become a problem."

By now Mrs. Mukherjee realized the problem, but annual day was coming fast. It was all she could do, with the school play and all, until the day before the holidays began and she was suddenly forced to focus on Ram Sharma.

Her children brought her presents, all in beautiful ribbon and bright paper, except for Ram's, which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper bag. Mrs. Mukherjee took pain to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found red stone bangles with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. She stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bangle
was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume behind the other wrist.

Ram Sharma stayed behind just long enough to say, "Mukherjee Ma’m, today you smelled just like my mom used to."

After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit her further studies . Instead, she began to teach children. Ram paid particular
attention to the one. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. On days where there would be an important test, Mrs. Mukherjee would remember that perfume.

By the end of the year, he had become one of the smartest children in the class and well, he had also become the "pet" of the teacher who had once vowed to love all of her children exactly the same. A year later she found a note under her door, from Ram, telling her that of all the teachers he'd had in primary school, she was his favourite. Six years went by before she got another note from Ram. He then wrote that he had finished high school, first in his class, and she was still his favourite teacher of all time.


Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would graduate from college with the highest of honours. He assured Mrs. Mukherjee she was still his favourite teacher.

Then five more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his entrance cleared, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still his favourite teacher, but that now his name was a little longer.

The letter was signed, Dr. Ram Sharma, M.D.

The last line of letter was:

“Teacher you have made me what I am today…..Thanks”

Mrs. Mukherjee replied:

“Ram! You have made what I am today. Thanks for making me a teacher”- God Bless!

: Sachin Singh
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