Sometime back I had drawn a 'You and I' series, on the back of my old business cards. I had put up only about six of those. Today's post is three more 'You and I's.' (I am in a lovey-dovey mood today :-) )
It is that time of the year again, when I sign my pre-orders. I have just got back from Manipal, utterly exhausted with knotted shoulder muscles, numb finger tips and a feeling of wanting to sleep for a hundred years. I am bone-dead tired.
I left for Manipal, on 25th which has one of India's finest and most advanced Printing press. To reach Manipal, you have to travel to Mangalore, and then go by road, a journey about an hour and a half. My flight was late, and by the time I reached Manipal it was about 7.30 pm. I checked into the hotel, and knew I had two long days ahead of me.
The next morning, we reached the press at 9.00 am.
There were two completely unrelated incidents that happened on Sunday, which would change Ayan’s life forever.
1. He attended an office party thrown by his boss in a swanky uptown pub in Pune.
2.More than a thousand miles away, in a small village in Kerala, not identifiable by Google Maps, his grandfather had a fall.
morning, unaware of anything but the clock on his computer ticking,
Ayan took a sip of the horrendous office tea with over-boiled tea
leaves, too much milk and sugar. He had only forty-five minutes left
before the meeting was to begin. Beads of perspiration trickled down his
forehead into his eye, and he blinked. His brow furrowed, he sat
hunched, with an ache in his neck, his fingers flying across the
keyboard. He felt as though somebody was raining blows inside his head.
His throat was parched despite the tea, and now his stomach began to
feel queasy as well.
He regretted having that fourth tequila last
night. But Randhir had insisted. You can hardly…
One of my closest friends (we have been friends since we were 10) lost her mother last month. I have mentioned it in my earlier posts. She and I were talking just now, about how death of our loved ones leave an irreplaceable void in our lives.
Every memory now on, every thing we do, every success we achieve will always be tinged with sadness, as they aren't there to witness it. People will say things like 'Oh they are there with you, they are watching you from heaven' etc. But it's just not the same.
A loss is a loss.
One of the things I find these days is that people find it so easy to leave 'sad' emoticons on facebook. Someone announces the death of their parent, and many condolence messages come pouring in. It's easy. Click a button. Write a few words like 'stay strong', 'RIP' ,'Sorry for your loss' etc and it's done. You are off, scrolling to see the next funny video, or reading someone else's status message.