Emily

'Go away, Em. I don't need you. You're of no use to me, anymore.' The words kept echoing in Emily's mind. Such words can be very traumatizing for a 15 year old girl. Especially, when they're coming from your father. The one man in a girl's life, who's supposed to be the one that'd never hurt her and would always be her first love and her hero. A hero! That's what Emily considered her father as. A hero. It was really difficult for her to believe that he was the same person who fought a case against her mother, for her custody. The same man who'd pick her up from school when they would have a fight in the morning, before going to school, only to tell her how sorry he was and how much he loved her.

Emily trusted him so much. And why wouldn't she? He is her father, after all. They had been through so much. They had been through the worst phases of life, together. There were days when there was nothing to eat. Days when the only money left was the few coins, which were always there in that drawer, which was rarely opened. But they survived through all the darkest hours and now, they had the luxury to buy whatever they wanted. It was time for them to live the brighter phase of life together, but her father had decided to go the other way. He decided to live this better phase all by himself. He was being selfish. Emily knew she had been used by her father to gain sympathy from the society. The divorce had made him a different man.

Some days, her father would sit beside her, on her bed and tell her stories and make her feel lucky to have at least got a father who loved her so much, if not a mother. Whereas some days, she would have to lock her bedroom door from inside and keep a knife under her pillow before sleeping, because she would be just so scared of her father. Ironically, she was scared of that person who's supposed to be her protector. Even his presence alone scared Emily, some times. She feared him. Fear is not good for health. When fear crosses the line where it can't be felt anymore, that's when one should start worrying. And that's what exactly happened with Emily. She couldn't feel anything anymore.
*******************************************************
"Are you still mad at me, Em?" asked Andrea.

"Yes, you said you'd come to meddle in if you see Paul troubling me again, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. But I'm sorry, I couldn't gather the courage to do so. He is so scary. And he's our senior."

"Whatever, Andy. I never should've believed you."

"Hey, don't say that. Look, I promise I'll rescue you from not only Paul, but all the other jerk-erflies who roam around you, next time onward. And why only jerks? I will always be there whenever you'll need me. I swear."

"Yea. Okay! I gotta go now. I guess dad's here. I'll call you later. Bye."

*******************************************************
"Hey dad. How was your day?"

"You disappoint me so much, Emily."

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

"You don't deserve a father like me, Em. I want you to leave now."

"I don't want to leave. This is MY house, too."

"No, it isn't. Get out."

"Fine. If that's what you want."

She gathered her belongings and took one last look at her home. Or at least she thought it was her home. Emily wasn't surprised when her father asked her to leave. He had said that a lot of times, before. And she had decided that if he ever said that to her again, she'd leave for real.
**************************************************

"Hey, Andrea."

"Hi. What happened?"

"What's up?"

"Er. I was just going to bed. What happened?"

"Oh. Um. My dad asked me to leave the house. And I don't know where to go at this time."

"Emily, my god! I wish I could help, but you know I can't. You know how my mum feels about you."

"Dude, its not my fault that my mother left me. Okay? Why don't you shove this thing in your mum's brain and ask her to calm her ass down?"

"Emily, you can't talk about my mum like that. Before I say anything bad to you, I'll just put the phone down."

Emily had never talked to anyone like that. She couldn't believe that it was her mouth all this came out from. She was helpless now. It was 10:30 at night and she had nowhere to go. And right then, the thing she was afraid of, happened.

When she gained her consciousness, she was in, what looked like an old basement, trying to catch her breathe. Her body was aching and she felt pain in her genitalia. She was old enough to realize that she had been raped and she started to sob. The tears wouldn't stop and she sat there crying, for what seemed like forever. The pain was excruciating and yet, she gathered whatever strength she had and searched for an exit. She was hungry, by now.

When she got out, it was a deserted street and it was still dark. She didn't have her belongings or anything. After walking a few meters, she felt tired, so she stopped and stood under a streetlight. She felt safe under it. For once she felt like she was in light. She didn't realize when she had fallen asleep.

The sound of whispers of people woke her up and she found herself surrounded by strangers. So many of them. She didn't say a word and the strangers just kept staring at her. No one offered to help or comfort her and she was in too much pain to ask for any. So she merely closed her eyes and sat there paralyzed.

***************************************************
Emily woke up sweating. Her hair was wet with her sweat and she was panting. She picked up her bottle and drank some water. She rubbed off the sweat from her forehead and took several breathes. She looked around the room and found herself at home. And she smiled. She smiled because it was just a dream and it wasn't gonna happen in reality. Again!

So, she lied down again and closed her eyes and thought about how she had come here after what she had gone through. What happened after what she dreamt about, played in her mind and she fell back, asleep.
*************************************************


"Hello?"

Emily felt a pat on her shoulder and she opened her eyes. It was an old woman.

"Are you okay? Where have you come from?"

Emily didn't say anything. She didn't nod or move. And just when she was about to say something, she burst into tears and the woman hugged her. The woman noticed that Emily was wounded, so she offered to help her. And Emily didn't refuse, either.

10 Types Of People You Meet At The Gym

10 TYPES OF PEOPLE YOU MEET AT THE GYM

Lately, I’ve been observing the people I work out with. There are all kinds of people and I find them amusing so, I’ve decided to list them out.

1.       The Cosmetics’ Shops:

These are the women who come to the gym like it is a pub. They literally take the time out to get all decked up. They wear the darkest lipstick from their collection, apply eye liner like it is free for them and to top it all, rouge? Rouge is like their best friend. Pink to be precised. Because no matter what your skin tone is, pink is your only choice.

Seriously, no one is looking at you. NO ONE!

2.       The Work Out Freak:

This is usually a guy. He is so engrossed in his work out that he doesn’t care about what the other people think. He spends like 4 hours at the gym and still feels like he should give more time to his body. Seriously, as much as an inspiration this guy is to many, he also is a reason for many people’s inferiority complexes.  This guy freaks you out, admit it.

3.       The Selfie Bees:

Now, this bee is buzzed, ALL THE TIME. They want a selfie of everything they do. They are buzzed about every freaking machine. So, their time at the gym is something like this;

Treadmill, SELFIE! Cross-trainer, SELFIE! Exer-bike, SELFIE! Toilet, SELFIE! And if this was not all, they are excited about the mirrors, too. And then, you know what they do. CLICK!

4.       The Fashion Divas:

These people come to the gym wearing the sexiest outfits, which are not even made for working out. Their outfits either make them uncomfortable, or make us uncomfortable. These divas are found at everybody’s gym. They’re rarely found working out. They are usually texting. And it is yet a mystery what they’re texting about, because they do nothing but text.

5.       The Smarty Pants:

They are the people who flaunt what they know. They want everyone to know what they know. Ever seen anyone who is fluttering like a butterfly from one person to another, telling them how to work out? That’s your Smarty Pant right there.

6.       The Disinterested Beings:

We all feel sorry for these people. They are absolutely disinterested in working out, but since they’ve heard so much about their ever-increasing weight, they have no option but to get down working on that bod. So, you’d never see them being all focused on their workout. They are just there to stay away from those who tell them how fat they are.

7.       The Greek Gods:

The Greek Gods!! They have such perfect bodies that you want to hug and slap them at the same time. The reason why they are working out is still unknown. Admit it, the Greek Gods are one of your reasons for going to the gym.

8.       The Lost Souls:

They are kind of the entertainers. They do not come for working out. They come to sit. And they sit. And sit. And sit. And when they realize they’ve sat for too long at one place, they get up and find another place to sit. And they sit. And the best part about them is they don’t stare at anybody or anything. They stare at the floor, like they are doing some kind of a profound thinking, while they SIT.

9.       The Texty Texters:

These are a bit different from the fashion divas. They dress up normally, but what attracts our attention is their fingers going all, “tick tick tic tick.” Why? Why? Why would you even come to a gym and text when you can do so many better things? And no, I don’t mean take selfies or anything, but just STOP TEXTING. They’re so engaged in texting that they’re not even aware of what they’re doing and the next thing you know, the cross-trainer that they are on, has gone on a pause mode, like 5 minutes ago.

10.   The Expressive:

We have all seen this one. They are known for their workout faces. Because when they are working out, and if you only see their faces and not their bodies, you’ll think that they are pooping. In fact, just to let out a personal thought, I think it is what their sex face looks like. I am just saying, because you never know.

So, this was my list of the types of people you meet at the gym. I’m sure there are many more, but these are the only ones that I have seen.

Seven Months, Six Days

Just 7 months and 6 days ago, I was here. I had come for a routine checkup and to my surprise, had found that I had been pregnant for a couple of weeks. My husband was taken aback by the news. He thought I was bluffing. He wasn’t ready. Neither was I. But when I told him that we had a choice to abort the baby, he was even more dazed. He was always against abortion, he thought it was murder. And he isn’t wrong. I agree with him. You are killing a living being, which is a result of your negligence. Had you been more careful, this wouldn’t happen.


We decided to give birth to the baby. My husband took up a part time job to meet the needs of the to-be-born family member. I started making room for the baby. My husband accompanied me for the checkups and tests that we had once in every month. And I even learnt to knit from the old woman, next door. She is an eighty year old, fragile looking woman. Although she is much older than me, she is still the coolest woman I’ve ever met. I spent every day with her and she told me about the time when she was pregnant. She shared her experiences with me and told me everything I needed to know about pregnancy, gave me a book called, “what to expect when you’re expecting,” and some DVDs that her husband had made her watch, when she was pregnant, for the mental development of the baby.


In the last 2 months, my condition had worsened and I had become weaker than before. The pain had grown on my nerve and it was excruciating. The doctors said it was alright and normal and that’s what the books said, too. But they were worried about the health of the baby. Everything I tried to eat made me throw up. The smell of every food item, made me nauseous. It was a very bad phase but I knew that the outcome of this was gonna be beautiful.


Today, I’m back, here. After 7 months and 6 days. It is gonna be a premature baby. My water broke weeks before the given date and my neighbor (the old woman), rushed me to the hospital. She even rang my husband at work and asked him to get to the hospital as soon as he could. Nice lady, that one!


I am about to pass out because of the pain. The doctor and the nurses are trying to keep me awake, to keep me going. But I just can’t. My body is giving up. My whole body is burning, my heart is thumping vigorously, my hands are numb and I can’t feel them anymore. I can hear myself screaming out of pain. All my efforts to get the baby out are failing. It is like the baby doesn’t wanna come out of me. My husband is waiting outside the ward, waiting for his baby. But we don’t have any. Not yet.


“It is coming out.” The doctor says. “I can see its head. Keep pushing.”

“That’s it, keep going. Just a few seconds more.”

I give one last push and give up. The baby is out, finally. And I can see it. It is my baby. I gave birth to it. It is so petite, so delicate.

“It is not breathing,” the doctor says.

And the next moment I see the doctor asking the nurses to get some prescriptions that I do not know of.

“What’s going on?” I ask, now screaming. “What’s happening? Why is my baby not breathing?”

“Relax, ma’am. We’re doing something.”

“Doing something? You perform thousands of deliveries every day and my baby isn’t breathing?”

They take my baby to another ward, to do ‘something.’ It is out of my sight. I start to pray. Pray and cry. Sob.

After 15 minutes, one of the nurses comes in with my husband. The moment he sees me, he comes and hugs me. I can feel him shivering. He knows something I don’t. I know it. I know he knows something I don’t know.

“What happened? Tell me, please!” I burst into tears, again.

“It is gone,” he says, his voice trembling. “The baby is no more.”

The End

It feels so different today. But nothing around me has changed. Everything is the same. People are going to work. Some are crossing the street. Some are driving, riding. Kids are playing in the park… and on the street. (Kids!) And what am I doing here, on the ground, amidst all this dry grass? It is all over me. Geez! What did I do last night? Did I drink, again? Oh no, if I drank and got sloshed again, my wife will kill me. She had warned me. My head hurts. Ugh! What’s that smell? Crap! It is coming from my shirt… and me. I stink. I need a bath.

If I am here, and if I spent the night here, which I am guessing is right, then it means I haven’t gone home all night. Oh God, no! My mum would be worried. I should walk faster and get home and check on everybody. Hey! There’s a telephone booth, there. I should probably call home first and ask if everybody is okay.

Where did all my money go? My pockets are empty. Did I get mugged, yesterday? NO! This can’t be happening. Why on earth did I go out, anyway? My money is gone, I stink like I’ve never before and I don’t have any memory of what happened last night. It is like I can totally empathize with Alan, Phil and Stew from Hangover. Is that a… a coin? Somebody must have dropped it. If I quickly pick it up, would anybody see? But that would be stealing, wouldn’t it? Ah! Forget it. Right now I’m worried as shit and I need to contact my family.

It is a five rupee coin. I need change. Er... I can ask that lady there. “Hello, Miss. Do you, by any chance, have a change of five rupees? I need to call my family. Uh Miss? Hello?” She isn’t responding. She’s so profoundly engrossed in her telephonic conversation that she’s least bothered to even say no. What a witch! I should find another person. Hey! I remember this place. If I walk for more five minutes toward the east… here, I am. This is where I teach. What day is it today? It was Thursday, day before yesterday, and since I don’t remember what happened yesterday, I presume that it was Friday, yesterday, which means its Saturday, today. Great! School’s closed. Wow! Wait, the school remains closed on Saturdays, but the office remains open.

There’s no one in the office. What time is it? Oh! The clock shows 1:30 pm. But I need to call… eh! Who cares? I’ll make the call and leave. It is just one call and the school earns a lot, anyway. It is ringing. “Hello? Priya? Uh, Hello? Can you hear me? What is that noise behind you? I can hear you, stop saying hello. Hello? Hel-“

Dear lord! I guess it is the network. No issues. I think my wife is okay. She sounded fine. I’ll go home now. She doesn’t seem mad either so it is safe.

Okay, if I enter from the back door, she won’t notice and I can tell her that I came early morning and slept in the lawn.

No one’s in the bedroom. Good.

God, I look hideous! I really need a bath. “Priya, can you switch on the geyser for me, please? I stink pretty badly. Priya? Perhaps, she’s in the living room. Pri-“
Why are there so many people wearing white? Is my mum alright? Did something happen to her? “Mama?” No, no. she is fine. Why is she crying? “Mama? Why are you crying? What happened? Tell me, what-“

What the hell, is that… my body?

“I warned him to stop drinking.” I hear Priya talking. “But he didn’t listen to me.”


“Where did you find his body?” That’s Aunt Sophie.

“Somewhere… near his school. He had passed… out, there. So we brought him home. He was breathing then, but… he was badly injured. He got into a-a… fight again, I think. So, we-we took him… to the hospital and after spending about… 30 minutes there, he-he passed away.”

“No, no. Don’t cry, Priya. I’m here, right here.”

Maybe if I try getting inside my body, I’ll come back to life.

It is not happening. But it happens when people get possessed. Perhaps I should try possessing someone. No. What am I saying?! I can’t do that.

Oh god, my consciousness is failing me…

The diary of a harlot's child

The diary of a harlot’s child

I heard her scream from the room next to mine

I knew how she would look tomorrow

She’ll be having those bruises

And I’ll be looking her right into her eyes; filled with sorrow,

She wanted to tell me,

I wanted to question.

But how could she explain why she was with him, still?

Hadn’t he given her enough reasons to leave?

But she’s a woman; she says she’s weak,

And has nowhere to go, no shelter to seek.

So I told her, “Ma, I’m with you.

So what if you had to choose this work

And do what you do?

I go to school, Ma.

The NGO will help me be a better person.

Not better than you for you’ve sacrificed every bit of your existence

For me to have a better life, a life you never had

For me to not get married to someone like dad.”

She held my hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

She closed her eyes and prayed silently.

She gave me a talisman.

She said she would always be with me.

She kissed my forehead

Gave a peck on my cheek

She waved at me as I started to leave

I couldn’t concentrate in school that day

I wanted to go home and hug her

But when I got home that day,

I saw her body hanging from the cover.

Such is the life of people who work for men.

Men, that don’t respect women and consider them objects,

Another one gone, thousands still alive,

Who knows, another kid’s mother might have just departed from this life.

Let there be light

I stood in the balcony and watched little kids burst firecrackers. The sound of their laughter filled the air and I… I felt nostalgic.

It is that time of the year again when people lit lampions, lamps, candles, and also, burst firecrackers. It is Diwali. Diwali has been my favourite festival. It is so bright, colourful, vibrant and joyful. And oh yes, how can we forget about the food? That food! Oh I would give anything to celebrate Diwali at least 5 times a year and not just once. It is that one time of the year when moon is not really required to be present in the sky because the land is already lit up. And I know that people from other countries visit India and complain about poverty, slums, traffics, suffocation, even. But the actual time to visit India is during Diwali. Nowhere in the world, would you ever see such colourful nights and beautiful surroundings.

I remember when I was little, my dad used to get tons of firecrackers and I used to burst them all like crazy and ask for more when they used to get over. And my dad being a festive person himself, would get me more firecrackers. It was every year’s story. And I thought this would never change. But soon, Earth started to turn grey and we, as mature teenagers, had to stop polluting the environment. Kids these days are taught to celebrate a pollution-free Diwali but that’s like refraining from using colours on Holi because it is harmful. And I know it is not mandatory to play with firecrackers during Diwali, but it has been a tradition for decades and it feels incomplete without firecrackers now. When I was a kid, my elders asked me to not play with firecrackers for the same reason, but I still did, because I was a kid. Then how can I expect kids these days to stop enjoying and start thinking about saving the Earth? They deserve a little fun too. And I am totally against those crackers which possess decibels more than required and allowed, but the smaller ones are benign or at least less harmful.

So let the kids enjoy and let us be the responsible adults and do our bit by not bursting firecrackers and save mother Earth. Because when these kids would grow up, they would do the same and set examples then, like we would now.

Let there be light!