8 Deodar Street

It was the rains that cheered him up. A sky full of moody dark clouds, leaves swaying to the sweet rhythm of the wind, children delighted at the thought of missing yet another day of school.
Why would anyone say the rains made them gloomy?
It had now been 4 months in Kolkata. Coming from a very conservative north Indian upbringing, he had found it hard to digest the comfort with poverty that people in this city seemed to have. While in the swanky streets of Punjab it was almost unheard of not to see a couple of brand new Toyotas, Kolkata screamed of noisy yellow taxis and the grunts of rickshaw pullers.
Now in sitting in his plush office he thought of how ironic life had become. Here he was with the kind of job his Paaji would have sold his soul for, back in the day, yet he had no means of really enjoying it. Life gets lonesome for bachelors traveling out to strange lands in pursuit of a rewarding career and his was no different. And now as he watched out his window at the hustle bustle of the city, he realized more than ever the pain and sadness of separation.


Another Day

Waking up at 4 am was never a problem with her. The mornings were quiet and peaceful, a stark contrast to how her day would progress. Breakfast, rush hour traffic, honking cars and blinking red traffic signals. Life for the modern woman they call it now, but truth be told, the job just seemed like another burden pulling one down.

It was not always like this. She had once been the wild child, life of the party with a certain effervescent quality that all around her wanted to imitate. No job was too difficult, no dream too big.. there was always room for more friends and they came easy. Like a moth to the flame. There are very few who are blessed with an arresting face as well as the intelligence to hold a persons interest. And she definitely fitted the bill.