Who's first ?

                                            Scene---1.

It is afternoon. Adults are  taking their afternoon nap. Kids are doing anything other than what they are meant to -study. 

The bell rings . The oldest child in the family answers the bell . A dishevelled "pahari"( men from the hills ) , stands there , his kohl-lined eyes almost blood shot . Deadpans - " Shehed lena hai ". (want honey ). 

The teenager with her Justin Bieber addled brain , sees a glimmer of comprehension and asks him to wait . Skips to her mom , shakes her ample, slumbering tummy .  "Mummy , someone has come , asking for honey." 

By the time the sleepy housewife has dragged her feet to the door, comprehension has dawned , and alarm bells have begun ringing . For these kohl-eyed paharis are notorious for thieving ways. 

"What do you want ?" 

"Shehed chahiye ?" 

" Nahin" Door slammed. 

"You thought he wanted honey ? He was selling honey , baby . " 

                                                  Scene---2.

"When bees become extinct , humans will follow suit , shortly , so said a famous scientist."

"how?"

"See , bees are eaten by bee-eaters , they will die . Crops wont be cross pollinated , so failure of crops, and lot of other species , dependant on crops will die ."

The gyan was being spouted earnestly by a mom , who thought no end of herself , an insufferable know-it-all.  The audience comprised of a reluctant child with her head in clouds and hands into a plate of enticing , hot ,french fries.

" And so you too will die , if bees die." The mom tried to finish off , with a flourish. 

"Why will I die ? I don't eat bees , I eat  fries ." Said the child , with  her mouth full of fries and head full of Katy Perry's lyrics. 

                              

Short stories

                                                 1.

The bus was purring . The conductor stuck his head out , shirt end flapping , in the breeze .
“Hello , hello ” She was desperate . The phone had chosen to ring at precisely , this moment . It was him .
The conductor was impatient “You coming “. She gestured . Please wait . Pleading looks . The conductor rolled his eyes .
“Hello , hello .I am here .” Why wouldn’t he answer? She could hear static. Probably , he too , was screaming into the phone on the other end .
The engine revved . Her heart beat faster . The next bus came at 1210 , reaching you at lunchtime .
She inched closer to the bus .
He never rang her up at this time of the day . This was his sneaky call. An emergency . What could have happened ?
The bus started inching forward. Without her .
She was crying now , running alongside the bus .
Ear glued to the phone , she let loose in vernacular . Still , no answer.
The bus sped away , in a heartless cloud of dust.
She stood there , one arm outstretched , willing the bus to stop.
The line went dead.
All sounds stopped . She stood alone in the bus-stop, with dust swirling in little clouds , around her feet.

                                                             2.

The white automobile reversed sharply , taking her breath. 

A window glinted , rolled down hastily , a hand waved and the car was gone , before she could start  breathing again. 

A beginning of a tear stung the corners of her eye.

It all happened so fast . 

Like a movie . A gnarled hand on the shoulder , guiding her in . A soft , familiar , to-die-for voice , whispering , "This is what you wanted , didn't you ?" She looked into the loved eyes , 

gray bushy eyebrows , wrinkled broad forehead , and life  laughed back . Her words echoing , in abject wisdom , cruel , harsh and true. 

The room was dimly lit ,or her cataract playing up again. 

Her head nodding of its own accord , clackety - clack , clackety -clack , to the rhythm of her walking stick .

"I don't know , I don't know ",her lips whispered. 

                                                               3.

There she is , sprawled on the bed , on her tummy , reading a book .
Piles of neglected clothes , washed day before yesterday , folded yesterday , still waiting to be put away . Slippers in a state of violent disengagement , pairs missing . A corner of a hastily concealed shoe box , poking tell -tale from underneath the bed . Bedsheets hanging in disarray from the bedside . Books , last years , worn -out , tired-looking. This years , shiny , bright . Mingling with democratic freedom on the floor , in precarious piles . 

Younger one barges in , fresh from a two hour respite in the bathroom. A cloud of aromatic steam escapes into the room. Shampoo , deodorants . Pronouncing quick judgemental verdict on her sibling – ” She has stuck her nose into a book again , Ma , what ‘d you expect ? ”
Proceeds to comb her prodigious hair , coating everything in the room with a fine haze of flying split-ends , and dandruff.

                                                          4.

I laughed at them . They collected gems , ha, ha . Houses , cars, clothes , ha, ha, ha . What'll happen to all that accumulated rubbish when they die ? They can't carry it to their graves , can they ?Ha, ha , ha , aah , ha, ha. 

When my funeral pyre burnt , my laughter echoed back to me . "You , who collected nuggets of truth ha, ha, ha , read tomes on earthly wisdom,ha, ha, ha,  collected jewels of sparkling wit , and gems of knowledge , he, he ,he ; were you able to carry them along with you ?" Aaah , ha , ha ,ha . The air crackled with  the sarcasm , and went up in roaring flames of derisive laughter, raining showers of pitiful sparks , turning quickly to ashes , the moment it touched the floor.

Thank God , I wasn't alive to hear it.

                                                 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

                                                         

Khaki pants

Today I parked
On a vacant lot
As usual, dogs barked
The sign said-"Park not"

The man next to me
seemed to be
scared and in hurry
drove away in a flurry

The baby I smiled at
didn't reciprocate
the mom clutched
her hand
concealed
in saree's fold

At a loss
I wonder
if something's
amiss

The subzi vendor
is quick and eager
to,unusually, lower
prices on his ware

A fleeting look
of sheer terror
nearly spook(s)
me , Oh dear

Did I sprout fangs,
or horns on my head
A bell rings , Oh dang!
I just espied

In the grocery store
window, mirror
Today I wore
my khaki trouser

hence the fear
on every visage
"A law enforcer
is at large."

Resurgam

Everyone wrote off my curry leaf plant , including myself. 

I had just returned from a long leave and had met my dear friend , who had moved along with me . She too had reported dismal demise of the coveted plants . They were needed for the curries , both our families loved . The place we were relocating to , though green , was tragically deficient in these aromatic leaves. 

The leaves had turned a dismal shade of yellow-brown , some had popped off too , leaving toothless gaps . The plant no longer smiled . My friend had even broken a small branch with a snap , to prove her point . Dead wood . Lost battle . 

But I had transplanted these plants myself. I started watering the neighbours , a luxuriant aromatic basil and a pot of ice plants , about to burst into blossom. 

After a couple of days, the “dead” curry leaf burst into new , green leaves . It was incredible . Change of weather , plus a very important factor had wrought the miracle -“Water”. And lots of it. 

There was something else too . They say company of living , thriving plants,influence the sick ones , and that they are “inspired ” to live . A human emotion . They lived and are about to flower in a couple of days.

Membership fee

                              The class was over , a gaggle of girls emerged , happy , chattering , laughing uproariously without any apparent reason . A flock of jabbering , brightly coloured macaws , out into the forest. 

The heads turned , Chandru looked up from his broom , gloomily . When Chandru swept , he sang , or rather , shouted , bawdy bhojpuri songs . They gave him a high , and brought a manic gleam to his "tharra"-sodden eyes . Chandru was never known to work quietly . 

Someone must have died , in his family . The thought echoed in the girls' minds silently , and the group of macaws fell silent . 

The door to the girls' common room opened into the staff room . The girls' slunk through a space between teachers' tables and the wall . Today , that space was jammed . 

D Yadav was the College Students' Union leader . He , and four of his cronies stood in the girls' path ,  an impenetrable china wall . 

Without preamble , a crony Yadav (all had same surnames , boys of same caste flocked together , like birds) , thrust a sheaf of membership forms into the first girls' hands . 

"What is this ?" Sandhya croaked . Asking the obvious.

 " Union ke forum baadu." Chandru replied , without looking up from his broom . He always spoke out of turn , and was used to being scuffed on the head , by the college big wigs like DY.

This time , another Yadav from DY's flock did the honours , adding -"apni aukaat mein reh be ."

Moumita sniffed , heads turned , the sky darkened .

Moumita came from a firebrand commie family . She had no patience with right wing unions . Before DY could move away , Moumita snatched a form from Sandhya, and deliberately tore it up , slowly , noisily, crumpled the pieces , and  threw it in the path of Chandru's frozen broom . Bengali drama, called "Jatra". Unnecessary , provocative . 

DY's ears turned red . The forest held its breath . Then he loped away , his cronies followed suit . 

The last guy to vacate was Bhondu . A Yadav of doubtful pedigree. He spoke bengali , but hung around with Yadavs. Moumita , the Bengal Tigress , leapt and caught him by his shirt . "Tui" (You) She hissed , with vehemence . The word meant "Et tu brute"

He looked back apologetically . Other Yadavs waited , at the door. If he was a bridge , he was likely to be bombed , "The bridge over river kwai" , caught between two ideologies. 

Moumita sniffed and let him go . The forest breathed again . Macaws fluttered , Chandru hummed. 

                                               &&&&&&&&&&&&&

Later , at the tution class in the evening , Bhondu entered and announced that all girls have already been made members of the Union .

Moumita sprang forward . How dare he ? Who forged her signature ? She never wanted to be any member of any  Union . Who did he think he was ? Husk filled dunderheaded idiot . She can never pay that kind of price .  There was no stopping Moumita. She would have torn Bhondu to shreds , had the tution teacher not arrived . 

Bhondu slunk away , tail between legs, in tears. 

Later , he is said to have asked Sandhya" What price is she carrying on about ? I just paid one rupee per head . " 

                                              &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&