The Turning Point, A Short Story

Nitin and Varsha were invited to Sulekha's birthday party.

Sulekha was Varsha's 'forever' best friend and the party was something that was bound to be a fun affair. Starting off as a leisurely lunch on a Sunday, it was meant to progress on  to tea and who knew, the possibility of the cocktail hour loomed large as an exciting prospect as well.

But things don't really change very much and  as it happened, today was no different. Nitin was ready, dressed in his 'Sunday best' while Varsha was still in her nightgown.True, she had already bathed and her clothes lay neatly on the bed. Nails varnished and make up applied, all she had to do was change, run a brush through her hair and she would be ready to leave.But what about all the household chores?  There was a mountain of laundry to be tackled, she had to sort out all their clothes for next week's ironing and the groceries had yet to be ordered.

Suddenly it was all too much for her and Varsha felt overwhelmed. The last week at work had been really tough, she had completed a very tough assignment and handed it over to her boss who had taken a cursory look at it and in a few words, told her it wasn't upto scratch. Net result- she would have to go in tomorrow and start it all she had all over again. To top that, she had the beginnings of a splitting headache and despite the painkiller she had just taken it seemed to be building up.

And how!

"I really must lie down for 15 minutes", she thought. It was just past 10 and they had to leave by 1230 in order to get to Sulekha's place in Andheri East.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when she did exactly that. Five  minutes later, or was it just two, she was lying in her soft, and comfortable bed. 

Fast asleep...

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"Hey Varsha, we will be late", called out Nitin from where he was busy watching the IPL unfold on television. 

"Come on, lets leave soon Varsha"

"Or at least as soon as you get ready."

 No response...

Another beer and 15 minutes later there was still no response and that was when Nitin decided it was high time to look into the matter. Driving to Andheri wasn't going to b e easy, even on a Sunday and he wanted to be sure they made a whole day of it.After all, it was the weekend, wasn't it?

Grumbling under his breath, he went towards the bedroom, everything was silent.

"What the"? he muttered and opened the door.

Looked in and saw Varsha stretched out on the bed.

Fast asleep.

Looking around, he could clearly see the signs of all her work in progress. The laundry basket with the dirty clothes, neatly separated into whites and coloureds lay on one side while another basket held the clothes that clearly needed to be ironed.

And Varsha looked so small..and very tired.

He felt his heart melting and in that split second, he realised what a male chauvinist pig he was! In the two years that they had been married, she had borne the brunt of running the household, He was ashamed to recall, the many, many times 

( just like today) when he had treated his "weekend" as sacrosanct and made the most of his time off.

" Chilling out" he called it- a couple of beers, good sex with Varsha followed by the evening out. And to him, it was all perfect- Time out for both of them. 

But something had to must change now,he told himself sternly. 

He wasn't going to be his father all over again.

Sitting with his feet up and relaxing while his mother, also a Professor at a leading women's college, worked hard through the week and then worked hard during her weekend as well. Cooking, cleaning and getting the house organised for all of them.

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"Oh God, have I been sleeping"? Varsha woke up with a start.

She felt rested but she also felt worried. She still had to tackle the laundry, the ironing... 

..and...and..

Looking around, she could see that something was different. The room was neat and there was no sign of the piles she had made some time ago.

And what was that sound? 

Could it possibly be...?

the washing machine?

That was when she saw Nitin come into the room. Very quietly so that he wouldn't disturb her.

"Oh you're awake? I hope I didn't...?"

And in a flash, Varsha understood.

Understood why everything looked so neat and clean.And why she could hear the sound of the washing machine in the background.

It was all because of Nitin.

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Coming up to her, Nitin stretched out his arms and drew her in gently.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She could see the glint of tears in his eyes and knew that it was a turning point.

Life had changed for them today.

And she was convinced, life was going to stay that way.

Sheer Coincidence or Divine intervention?

Say you decide to take the Shatabdi Express from New Delhi station to Chandigarh, something that you've done at least a hundred times earlier.But this time, there's a real difference. For just after you've boarded the train and reach out for your wallet to pay the coolie, you realise that you've been pick pocketed.

Far more important than the money you've lost are your ID cards, particularly those related to Health and Insurance, which might take upto six months be re-made.

But then you console yourself and finally shrugging your shoulders, you tell yourself that it could have been far worse.And then you carry on with your way of life and living.Exactly two days later, your front door bell rings and standing there, are three young schoolboys. After having introduced themselves, they hand over your wallet...which is now much lighter, but still has all your  6 ID cards!

Looking at your open mouthed surprise, they decide to enlighten you. 

They were on a school trip to the New Delhi Zoo  and saw this wallet thrown in a bin just ahead of the monkey's cages.

So they did simply what they thought they absolutely must.

And brought it back to you.

Image courtesy- Flipkart

Now this would be a story that I would find hard to believe, but I did. For it was told to us by my own father in law, Major General Sampuran  Singh  Ahluwalia some years  back, who is amazed and delighted with this sheer coincidence.

Or I'm left wondering.

Should I re-phrase it as 'Divine intervention'?

Mummy, my brave and beautiful guardian angel

It was May 77 and a hot summer afternoon in New Delhi. After finishing her Yoga session at the Vishwayatan Yogashram directly opposite Bangla Saheb Gurudwara, a poised young lady was walking briskly, keen to reach home at the earliest.

Just as she crossed the road, she heard a girl’s shrill voice, “Chhodo, Chhodo, Mujhe”( let me go)

There was a note of terror in the girl’s voice and as she came closer, the lady could see that a car had stopped on the road . While the driver remained seated, the other man was trying to drag the girl into the car and she was struggling to get out of his clutches. Without further ado, the lady ran towards them shouting, “ Leave her immediately or I will call the police .”

As she recalled it later, everything seemed to move in slow motion. She could clearly see the terror in the girl’s eyes, the anger and determination in the man who was trying to pull her in, the momentary confusion on the driver’s face as he tried to think of the next step. Over and above that, she remembered thinking that these two men were capable of anything in that moment and looking towards Gurudwara Bangla Sahib, she prayed “Madat Kar Mere Rabba”( Help me, God)

And then everything came back in sharp focus as the man threw the girl on the footpath, jumped into the car, the driver took off, and in the next moment, it was all over.

She helped the bruised and terrified girl up and asked her if she was OK. The girl replied that she could manage and all she wanted was to go home. After ensuring that the girl was OK, the lady stopped an auto rickshaw, settled her in and continued her walk back home. Once home, she heaved a sigh of relief, it was over but she was well aware that anything could have happened...

Mummy, newly married at 19

That brave lady was my mother, Biba Satinder Kaur and as I think about her on her third ‘Barsi’ I remember this and a thousand other wonderful things about her.

Mummy at 29, New Years Eve, Calcutta

Mummy’s love for nature, for all things beautiful, her immense love for her family, her deep and abiding belief in God and Sikhism, her steadfast loyalty to her friends, her care and consideration for the staff, of whom Jairam was the longest serving member. He worked for my parents for 39 years , coming in as a young boy and stayed with them till he passed away in 2016.

In the three years since Mummy’s passing, I have been through a roller coaster of emotions. The first year was traumatic and very , very hard. My father took her passing to heart and exactly 9 months later, left us to join her.

Three years after Mummy, I have finally understood that this is the new normal and life has to go on. Her warmth, her infectious laughter and her utter delight in every little achievement of ours is something which I treasure .

Mummy, May 2015

I’m convinced that Mummy is our guardian angel now - just as her mother was for her.