Pinku-Enchanted Life

It was an ordinary day. She got up made breakfast and the five course lunch that her husband would carry to his office. Was too exhausted to move by the time he came back from pumping iron but like any other day she obliged him by allowing him to pump his seeds into her. This he said was necessary for his keeping fit and vital so she acquiesced. Then the race to office and he was kind enough to drop her close to her office which he usually didn’t since that meant he drive a kilometer extra to reach his which came before hers. Must have lifted more weight than usual or someone must have admired his six pack at the gym she calculated mentally. Such charity from him after all was rare. A mundane day at office and then an acquaintance called to ask why she had not forwarded her CV to her husband since she had already told him about her and he was waiting to hear from her. Truth be told she had forgotten all about her chat with the lady about a job change the other day and she promised to d

Death they say comes only once. What do they know? In my life it comes so often that I have forgotten to count. That time when the Maths teacher pointed out that my scores were the least in a class of 56. When the boy I fancied told me to deliver a love note to my friend. And then horror of horrors they went out on a date. Once when I jumped trying to be brave from the ramparts of an old fort and landed up with a broken ankle. Also when I nearly drowned in trying to cross a stream and reach the other side. And more than once when I hear the bitterness in a loved ones’ voice. Tell me then how can they say that death comes only once? What do they know?

Hi! It's been so long since I last wrote a post. It almost feels like a home coming after a very long journey. I have been extremely busy trying to put personal and professional life in order and that's kept me away from the blog. For the last few days many thoughts that I would want to share, a few questions I want to ask and ideas of stories have been germinating. The itch to write is back and am sure something will develop soon and I will be able to share it with friends. Right now all I want to say is your smile means a lot to me so please keep smiling for my sake. Together we will make this world worth living, believe me. Love Pinku

I came to this city with a lot of emotional baggage and a hope to be let alone, to live my life the way I want to. I am leaving it with many a fond memory and the realization that real freedom is within our own soul. I have tried to capture the mood of this city in my camera and my mind and though the later are only mine to savor the former are here for you to share in.

I dream of things past, things that are yet to happen. Even things that can never happen like my father speaking to grown up me since he died when I had just turned sixteen. My dreams are vivid, life like at times more real than my real life. I cry, laugh and get angry in my dreams. I make friends, seduce people, fight, quarrel and makeup. At times I find I am swimming, though in real life I don’t know how to, it doesn’t seem to frighten me. Of late my dreams have been very disturbing; I have been part of activities which have made me feel ashamed of myself, even guilty of crimes unknown. I have seen myself trying to sexually please people with whom I don’t have a sexual relation. I have a feeling that I am trying to undo a wrong, pay a penalty perhaps. I don’t want to feel this way. I think I know what is happening, the subconscious part of me which wants to go back to being the ‘good girl’ of everyone’s aspiration is hitting out in the only realm it can. That of my dreams for in my a

The bird’s eye view showed a huge plain dotted with green and picturesque cottages set amidst palm groves, the hills however were nowhere in sight. As we swooped down to land at Coimbatore airport, I was surprised to find that ours was the only aircraft, quite an unusual sight from other airports which seem choc-a-bloc at all times of the day or night. That however was not the only surprise waiting for me, once off the plane I looked around to see where the bus was only to find fellow passengers walking to the airport building, I followed suit thoroughly pleased with the idea of being able to walk across an airport. A four hour journey by a rickety bus playing Tamil films found us moving through urban landscapes to rural to foothills and then finally an abundance of tea gardens. Finally the hills what a relief! The bus made frequent stops to pick up and drop travelers and at one such stop I witnessed the art of wearing a sari south Indian style. A middle aged lady traveling with a you