Sunday, October 11, 2009

Cursed Part 1

11.10.2009

“hi!”, Shruti beamed at me, her pretty face lit up in one of the sweetest smiles I have ever seen.

“I want a real big treat!”, she continued, slipping under the rug which was enveloping me in its cocoon of warmth in calcutta winter,.

Shruti was my cousin, therapist, mentor, friend since my parent died in a freak accident two years ago. It was she I found whenever I needed some one to hold on to, whenever the despair gripped my soul in its dark claws.

“you remember Jhumamasi?”, she continued in answer of my questioning glance, “she called me up today, when I was in chamber, she is coming to Kolkata tomorrow for a person referred by me, who is willing to shift to Rajpur and join them as her private secretary and ultimately run her business as a manager independently. That person is you!” she grinned from ear to ear.

Jhumamasi was Shruti’s mother’s sibling. She married a rich Rajasthani businessman against her father’s wishes, because that guy had a wife and two children, her family did not had any choice but to accept her wish because she was already pregnant with his child. They shut their doors on her citing her a bad example for her other siblings, she shifted to Rajpur with Keshav uncle, her husband. But her strained relationship with her family came back to normal when she showered them with help after her father’s accidental death and they observed that Keshav uncle’s first wife and sons have accepted her with warmth and respect.

I looked at shruti with tears of gratitude in my eyes. She winked at me.

She knew very well about the grave financial condition I was in. the little money my parents could leave for me was already almost exhausted because I had to finish my graduation studies and vocational courses with that. The few Fixed deposits in bank and the single room in my ancestral house shared with my uncles barely took care of my present, forcing me to gaze at a bleak future.

I knew the meagre money in fixed deposit will never meet the expenses of an average marriage, forget about a standard marriage- a marriage with a person of my type. My parents passed away suddenly leaving me in dire straits, but i was being brought up with good education and taste. They could not send me to the best schools but family background and their way of bringing up has turned me into a very sophisticated girl in comparison to my current financial position.

Every time uncle, Shruti’s father tried to find a match for me dowry became the roadblock. They never searched for a hi fi guy, all they looked for was an educated guy of decent family background and decent job. They all liked me initially, because of my looks and manners, but the moment they came to know about my financial condition they backed off. After about half a dozen rejections I requested them to not look any more, I will find my match by my own and prepared myself for the worst.

I knew it was almost impossible for me to get a groom of my choice, hence I concentrated on job, but that too was betraying me. A few interviews I faced brought further despair, the amount of salary that was being offered, to accept that and continue the work, I would have to spend from my own pocket.

Shruti’s words opened a floodgate of security and happiness. I could not utter a single word of thanks as I hugged her tightly, she hugged me back tightly and laughed.

13.10.2009

One month later I landed in Rajpur. It was a tiny town, studded with small hills and numerous lakes… a thing which I never thought could be possible in Rajasthan. I was quite amused about my lack of knowledge in geography..

Jhumamasi was waiting for me in the Railway station. “How are you? How is didi?” she clasped my arm warmly as I bowed down to touch her feet. “Don’t touch my feet, unmarried women don’t touch feet of others in this province.” She smiled.

Her airconditioned car was waiting outside the station. She opened the door and I sat down beside her. She drove the car to her home. A house made of sandstone. The real surprise was inside.

It was a piece of art, the floor was of marble and every inch talked about extravaganza and taste.

Keshav uncle was waiting in the bedroom. I noted that he was lot older than aunty. He has expertly dyed his hair but his face was betraying his mask. He gave me a warm loving smile which instantly won my heart and I started to worship these two kind, generous souls. Who were rich beyond measure and kind beyond words.

I was placed in aunty’s guest room. She asked me to settle there till they think about my future.

14.10.2009

There was something in that room, I felt really bad there. I admit I was scared of ghosts, but not that much. My ancestral home was a centuries old building.. and my nerves have settled down after living there for years but this room made me really uneasy.

I used to go for the switch right after entering the room and changed my habit.. I started to sleep with the night lamp on.

I still recall the first night there, I was about to go to bed after spending the whole day talking with Jhumamasi, she accompanied me to the room.

“There is one thing, we don’t close the bed room doors from inside. Its strictly prohibited. One of Keshav’s sisters committed suicide.” She told me.

“Its alright, there are only us, no outsider can enter these rooms. A guard sits outside the gate all night.” She added reassuringly.

“That’s ok masi, I will not bolt the door from inside.” I replied.

Well I did. The moment I heard her mounting the stairs to her bedroom I softly bolted the door, soundlessly and went to sleep.

15.10.2009

She knocked my door early next morning. “Good morning child!”, “Did you locked the door from inside?”

“No, I was changing when you knocked!” I told her. After all she could not prove any thing from outside.

“Get ready quickly. I will take you to the office.” She smiled.

It was not much far away from aunty’s home. Keshav uncle’s first wife and her two sons along with their famillies lived just a few blocks away from Jhumamasi’s home. Both the sons went to office, only Ramit was studying away in Doon School.

He rarely visited Rajpur, Jhumamasi and Keshav uncle went there to meet him. They of course had a resort there, and that resort had a special suite for Ramit. He could stay there whenever he wanted.

Keshav uncle ran a few hotels and restaurants in Rajpur and surrounding. Its Jhumamasi’s lady luck he openly says which has enabled him to open a worldwide chain of resorts, restaurants and hotels. Well, it had two things behind it, her lady luck and her sharp brain.

When her car pulled in the driveway a guard ran to open the doors. he saluted in local dialect. I noted he was wearing an uniform.

The office was quite spacious, it consisted of a huge hall – partitioned and three separate chambers for uncle, romit and ronit. Yes the name of uncle’s eldermost son was Romit. Heaven knows why they named their youngest son Ramit.

“I sit with Keshav whenever I come to work. My seat is in his chamber. His first wife Ritu visits office once in a blue moon as a guest.” She answered as if guessing my curiosity.

“Just like me, Rekha and Sunaina sit in the chambers of their husbands whenever they come.” She continued in a way of explaining. “Rekha is housewife, sunaina is smart. She cant come here right now because of two young children but earlier she used to help Ronit a lot. Rekha is issueless, its been more than ten years after their marriage, so…”

She introduced me to the staffs. Who stared at me as if I was an exhibit from zoo. There were a huge number of employees. The entire network was maintained from here very meticulously. Apart from these there were executives. Who were based here but handled the supervising of resorts/hotels.

“Keshav prefers local people. He thinks that reduces the chances of cheating.” She said. “Lets see whats he planning for you.” She smiled.

16.10.2009

I joined the office as computer operator. “We will take things slowly, so that people don’t get jealous.”

“Start with this job and then we will slowly lift you up the steps…” Jhumamasi said.

The more I saw the people attached to Jhumamasi’s company Blue star my amazement increased, starting from jhumamasi to her peons every one seemed to have found the key to el dorado, the city of gold, there was no limit of their wealth.

Keshav uncle was a little partial about his first wife ritu and her sons Romit and ronit, he has built two houses for his two wives, situated a little further from each other. Each of them owned a personal car. Even Jhumamasi’s son Ramit who was studying in Doon School and came to Rajpur only on vacations had his own car standing in garage. The houses with their elaborate decoration and size will make millionaires envious.

Jhumamasi’s explanation to it all was, “If you can make a solid base of satisfied customers, you will earn more than you can even dream of, all you will have to do is retain the customer base and increase your business assets in a way that it adds up to your present business.”

She further explained how she has slowly invested all the profits of first 15 years in building a chain of hotels in the tourist spots in which Blue Star had restaurants , so they could offer their customers rooms there at a reasonable and honest rate.
“This was my idea!” she proudly said, “And this idea brought in the harvest of gold, in last fifteen years we have built more than hundred hotels in India, and a chain of restaurants outside India, but outside India we will stick to small hotels, because it will be foolish to compete with big hotels. We should better reap the craze of Indian foods.”

She had found the long wanted listener in me. She used to share her dreams, hopes and expectations with me while we sat on the swing in her balcony or I helped her in kitchen. She preferred cooking herself.

She said even though the entire idea was her but she did not hesitated to share it with her husband’s first family and his sons, even though its because of their hostility she had to send her only son to Doon, because she was always afraid for his life.

17.10.2009

A few weeks later when I returned Jhuma masi was sitting in the kitchen. Two women and a girl was sitting on the floor. I knew the women, they worked for her but the girl was a new face. A small girl about thirteen or fourteen years old.

“Gina, we have finally been able to find out a suitable accomodation for you.” She said when she saw me standing at the door of the kitchen.

She has already arranged for a two wheeler for me on loan, I have practiced it enough to use it for travelling since last week. So she was spared from the duty of taking me to and fro the office.

“Lets go and see the flat tonight, and we will see it again on Sunday, ok?” she said. “Any way, Keshav has already finalized it, he is the big boss.. as you know, we will have to just see if there is some problem which has slipped his not so keen eyes.” She smirked.
My landlord Rajendra Jain was Jhumamasi’s employee, one of her seniormost executives. He and his family lived in the ground floor and another tenant and I shared two separate flats on the first floor.

Mr. Jain looked after jhumamasi’s Jaipur office. He used to come there every weekend, as Rajpur was couple of hours away from Jaipur. When I shifted there he was in Rajpur for a month, to attend annual meeting and exhaust his leaves.

There was not much to finalise the flat, I liked it very much so I shifted there next month, along with the girl.. Soma, who was the daughter of one of Masi’s housemaids. She said this will be the very best for me.

“Keshav trusts Rajendra with his eyes closed. But living alone in a small town can have lots of disadvantages. It should be better if you have a local, trustworthy girl with you. Soma’s mother have worked for me since I stepped in Rajpur, that is last twenty five years.” Jhumamasi said.

Jhumamasi decorated my two room flat with her own hand. She forced me to take a loan of fifty thousand rupee which she said will be deducted from my salary, she wanted to utilize that money to properly decorate the flat so people don’t look down upon me. I did not had any choice but to say yes because it was her prestige attached to it, I knew that people will think negative of her if they come to know that I am too poor in comparison to her peons. Who according to my observation were pretty well to do.

19.10.2009

I was still not very habituated with driving my two wheeler, Mr. Jain requested Jhumamasi that his brother Rakesh who works in Blue star will take me to and from office till I become expert in driving.

Every one warned me against the horrible manner in which people or Rajpur drove their vehicles. Specially the local minibuses. They told me to simply stay out of their path.. they were like rhinos.. come in their path and they will bulldoze you. Wont even stop to look.

Rakesh lived near Mr. Jain’s home, he promised he will pick me up from the door and drop me there.

I loved the home at the first sight. It was a spacious house, with a huge courtyard and big balconies. The roof was huge and commonly shared.

Mr. Jain’s wife Mona was a very friendly woman. Mr. Jain was charmingness impersonified. They had two children, a boy and a girl. Both were very cute.

My flat had two bedrooms, a drawing room, kitchen and toilet.

Soma declared that she will sleep in my room at night because she is scared of ghosts. Though I did not liked to share my bedroom with any one I had to give in to her. She seemed truly scared of ghosts, and she was my responsibility too.

I smoothly shifted to the new house and to Jhumamasi’s great relief I settled down well. She called me up every evening in Mr. Jain’s phone to know if I was alright. Or used to call me in office to ask the same.
Later when I started to commute to and fro office independently I used to make a short visit to her home on my way back home but I soon realized that visit without appointment was not very comfortable for her. So thereafter I used to wait for her invitation.

22.10.2009

Jhumamasi and uncle has taken me under their wings of affection from the very first day. They even expressed their desire to adopt me, but I politely refused. It was not possible for me to give the place of my deceased parents to any one else.

Then they made up their mind to get me married to some suitable groom of Rajpur. To which I naturally did not objected, only told Jhumamasi that I wont marry any one who will ask for a dowry. She insisted a lot that they will give the dowry but I stood my ground. Hence groom hunting became pretty tough for them.

To my deep despair two things became clear within first three months and I started to regret my decision of coming to Rajpur bitterly.. yet I could not leave because of Jhumamasi and uncle’s affection. The first reason was the huge debt on my head, which was being deducted from my salary @1000 rupee per month. To add up to it Shruti and her parents have shifted to Mumbai, there was only one family of my relatives left in my ancestral home and I had very bad relationship with them.

This cousin of mine and his wife left no stone unturned to throw me out of my own home. They tried every possible trick that could be applied. Some of them were simply monstrous and others unthinkable.

He was a man without any moralism or value. He squeezed his own widow mother dry, threw out his younger brother and usurped their share in the house. He found out a woman exactly of his own material. That was quite a surprise, because every one said that God/devil has broken the cast after creating him.

I knew that if I go back there on my own, without Shruti and her family to watch my back - whole hell will break lose on me. So I waited, hoping that things will improve here.

The things which were bothering me were not very trifle. They were amply grave. Jhumamasi and ritumasi had an venomous relation, they hated each other and were always ready stab each other at their back if given a chance. Same was with their children, even school going Ramit was not above it. Under keshav uncle’s strict supervision they met the world as a single, devoted family but the venom was spewing inside forever.

I have landed in the battleground of two tuskers. I, being the only relative of jhumamasi available they immediately set their eyes on me, and my being young and woman became their triumph card.

They had every thing well planned, I realized it step by step later. There were hand counted female staff in the office, because Rajpur was a remote area. Their seats were all in one place whereas my seat was away from them, situated among a cluster of male staffs.

Being born and brought up in a normal family, and west bengal I took it naturally, because they have seated me with the person who will be guiding me. But it never crossed my mind that it may cast an adverse shadow on any small town guy.

May be that was the reason that I noted a lot of the men there were flirts or were eager to flirt with me. Though they did not dared to show it off openly but body language spoke it all.

Fortunately I always walked on ground, firmly. So those fleety gazes, flittering around my desk without work did not made any impact on me. I knew that none of them will marry me without dowry. The lowest rate in Rajpur was lakhs plus other facillities.

From the very first day I found their behaviour very disturbing. It appeared that they were forever ready to flirt with me, even though I was ordinary looking and there were some beauties in the office, they did not looked at the other stylish girls and were always stalking at my heel.

That was extremely embarrassing for me, because I had to keep in mind Keshav uncle, Jhumamasi and their sons. Something inside me warned that there was some thing seriously wrong. Which helped me in keeping my reserve amongst those over romantic guys.

Within a little time I observed that they all had a common habit of crowding in the room of Keshav uncle’s son Ronit with or without reason. Then a suspicion creeped in my mind that may be they want me out of the office. They must have chosen their side in the war. The side of ritu aunty, and my appearance there must have made them suspicious that jhumamasi wants to increase her strength.

They detested jhumamasi thinking that she is a woman of easy virtue and greedy nature. They showed her respect only in front of her and keshav uncle, due to the fear they had for him. She had her shield but I had none. Hence when I tried to talk politely and sweetly with female staffs they snubbed me and one smile to one of the men resulted in his outrageously flirting with me. In short they made my breathing in that office impossible.

24.10.2009

I tried to discuss my problem with jhumamasi, she replied with a smile, “They are jealous of you. They just cant accept that someone of your age, experience will ultimately issue orders to them within a couple of years-they are trying to make you pack your bag and leave”, she said after hearing every thing.

“you can do one of two things-either pack and leave or stay. No matter what happens and keep score of each and every insult, and settle your scores once the power is in your hands.”

“This world is not a bed of roses sweet heart! It’s a really tough world. Here you will have to fight for every foot hold. Every one knows you are an orphan, so they will try to crush you. Thank god that you have me and keshav uncle or else they would have torn you apart like a pack of wolves.” She concluded.

I too realized the blunt truth hidden in her words and shuddered. And my heart filled up with the gratitude of a devotee towards god.

I got her reasoning and decided to stay and fight. I stopped mixing with everyone and started to receive them with cold politeness with which they used to treat me. Even though it was exactly opposite my nature but their open hostility did not left me any other choice.

I had only one true friend in that hostile city, sulata, the gorgeous wife of the second tenant of Mr. Jain, Abhishek Sharma. They were one of the most warm and sophisticated couple I have ever seen. Sulata was a beauty beyond words and Abhishek manly, sophisticated and handsome.

Sulata became my closest friend within one month of meeting, I started to love her with all my heart, and did so for a long time. She was one of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. At first she was distant and cold but finally she gave in and we became almost as close as I was to Shruti.

I used to share all my experience with Sulata, who was a good listener, and she always gave me good suggestions.

There was a nagging feeling, which used to disturb me a lot. It appeared whatever I said to Sulata was reported to the people of Blue star word to word. The same thing happened to the conversations held at Jhumamasi’s home too, where I was a regular visitor on weekends and used to often spend my Sundays and holidays.
And the people of my office brazenly used to let me know that all my petty conversations reach their ears by mocking me indirectly, or by repeating the sentences including even comma and semicolons.

25.10.2009

My prime suspects were Jhumamasi’s maids who worked for Ritu aunty too, and Rakesh, Mr. Jain’s younger brother, who used to live a couple of houses away from his. He was a sales representative of Blue star and almost a daily visitor of Mr. Jain’s home. I used to see his car standing outside when I returned from office.

It was due to my phobia for him I never dared to visit Mr. Jain’s residence for long span. It was inevitable that if I stayed there for more than half an hour he will appear there like Jack out of box. As if he sniffed my presence. He did not dared to visit Sharma household because all he received there was curt and cold politeness.

Mr. Jain has requested Rakesh to give me lift to and from office. That opened the door for one of the most disgusting problems I have ever faced. Which made me bitterly regret my decision of going to Rajpur.

From the very first day he started to flirt outrageously with me, even though we both knew that he was married with two children. No matter how much I ignored him it only enhanced his shamelessness. He started to flitter around my desk in office like a fly hovers above honey,

Not only that, he used to do it in a sly way, pretending that I liked his presence, or am giving him some kind of lift to continue such behaviour. I stopped going to office with him within a month, and started to drive my two wheeler. But to my shock he started to stalk me on my way to office and way back. Whenever I came out of home or office his car was following me from a considerable distance.

Slowly eyebrows started to shoot up and whispering bega., I was naturally the one who was branded the culprit for wrecking a family. After all I was jhumamasi’s sister. I tried to ignore it for a few days by openly showing my dislikation for Rakesh but it did not worked because his shamelessness increased and along with that the sniggering of my colleagues. One day I just lost my temper said some rude words to a colleague and left the office in tears.

When I reached home Sulata was back from school, “Hi!!! You are back home at this hour?” she was surprised.

“Didi, Jhuma madam called and asked you to go back to her home immediately.” Rik Mr. Jain’s son peeped from his door.

I left the home for Jhumamasi’s home. Keshav uncle was waiting there.

“Its all your fault. Nothing of this type has ever happened in Blue Star.” Keshav uncle said firmly.

“Then I wont go there from today onward.” I replied. I was not one of those persons who get intimidated easily.

“This is not West Bengal, this is Rajasthan. You should act in that manner.” Keshav uncle has not yet finished. “I don’t blame the staffs of my office, I have seen them for years.”

“People here don’t talk with the opposite gender.” He continued adamantly.

I had a deep impulse of asking him that do people use duct tapes to seal their mouths when they are placed in a seat surrounded by only males.

“I have talked with Mr. Jain and the second tenant of his home. I have told him to transfer Rakesh to his Jaipur office. He has told me that its all his fault.” He added further.

I went back home after his lecture was finished. Sulata was waiting for me eagerly. The moment she heard my scooter entering the courtyard she came out.

26.10.2009

“What happened?” she asked after a little time, we both were sitting in my drawing room.

I blurted out the whole thing to her. “The people of this place are like that, it took me years to adjust myself with their narrow mentality.” Sulata said. She and Abhishek both were from Delhi and have been transferred to Rajasthan. Abhishek worked as a Zonal manager of a Medicine Company, a reputed one but I have forgotten the name now. He toured the whole Rajasthan, Gujarat and Maharashtra from Rajpur while Sulata and Sonu their daughter stayed in Rajpur.

A part of my heart was relieved to get away from that office. But my relief did not lasted for long.

“Its very tough to survive in private concerns of Rajpur with dignity. As you don’t have a B.Ed degree you wont get a job in school but I can help you with tutions.” Sulata said.

I looked at her gratefully. We bade goodbye to each other. She had to make preparations for sonu and her sleeping and I had to cook my dinner.

I was brushing my teeth in the morning when Jhumamasi’s car pulled in the road. She came out of the car and started to mount the stairs, “Keshav wants to see you.” She said with a smile. “Change and come now.”


I went there apprehensively, and was shocked to see Rakesh standing there, Keshav uncle started to thrash him left to right and ordered him to call me sister and give me the respect he gives to his own sister or else he will see to it that he had to leave Blue star and Rajpur. Rakesh was as meek as lamb and left after mumbling an apology to me.

“I always do justice.” Keshav uncle said haughtily. “Rakesh thought that he will get away with it.”

“You will have to join the office, that’s where you belong and you are our responsibility.” He made the final statement. “I want you to promise two things.. first, you will always treat the employees of Blue Star as your subordinates, and second you will marry any one I select for you. I don’t want to hear any excuses.. you are a child, so you should never interfere in the things adults decide for you.” He ended his short lecture.

I meekly agreed and promised him because I was the one who was caught in the wrong foot. Even though I was innocent. But even then I did not changed my anti dowry stand.


will be continued as Cursed Part 2......

47 comments:

  1. Writing in first person suits you. I believe that every thing we write is our own copy. Good start.

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  2. dear sam,

    not always.. i have seen some really **** creatures writing the most beautiful things... just stay in the writing sphere for a while and you will know...

    they are horrible.

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  3. Well dear Trisha,

    Muse is not at all concerned with morality, wonder whether you would believe this!

    I sometimes write stuff that would make a steel statue sweat. And I write them in the first person. I have no real experience of them. But we are a replica of the entire world, otherwise we would not be a part of it……

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  4. dearest friend,

    well, i dont want to confuse myself.. :) i keep myself a little away from the world..
    i feel safe and happy that way.

    i really dont believe in that theory which a lot of people believe that all human beings are same.. we may be the part of the same crowd, and have collective responsibility but we are not clones..

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  5. Dearest Trisha

    You are such an intrepid soul. Always holds fast to your lovely and well thought out opinions. Thats what I like in you the most. I feel refreshed by it most of the time.

    Anyway I did not mean we are clones.

    There is this theory in the Yoga philosophy that the Anda ( microcosm ) and the Pinda ( macro cosm) are the same in essence. The modern science also have come to an understanding that every single atom contains information about the whole universe.

    So world with all its varied phenomena need be within us.

    Anyway this is only a point of view.

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  6. dearest sam,

    i too agree to that theory, but in the red indian way..

    i love a story a friend of mine sent me four or five years ago:

    A soldier was going through a forest when he came across a red indian chief sitting beside a fire.

    there were two wolves in chain tied near him, one white, the other black.. the white one was shining with robust health and the black one was skinny.

    he noted all the while the guy was throwing the best morsels to the white one and the left overs to the black one.

    he could not resist himself and asked why..
    the chief said the white one is our good self and the black one is our bad self. they both will live inside us and one day may come when they fight each other.. i want the white one to win.

    i believe our social self is made by the wolf which we feed most..and the best.

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  7. That's beautiful story. The American Indians are a wise people. Ancient, living in close contact with nature. Carlos Castenada has developed a whole philosophy out of their teaching.

    I love the story, it has great beauty. And I agree with you in the sense that the good need be nourished to get near the truth. And yes if the bad wins we may further move away from truth.

    You are doing very well with your story too. It is coming up nicely. There is a wealth of talent lying hidden in that beautiful heart of yours.

    I am glad that you are writing so well. I did expect it of you :) Wonderful Wow !!!!

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  8. dearest sam,
    thats what every religious text and wise man says.. truth has to be nourished, cherished and preserved. i am really happy that i agree and vibe with most of the words of shreemadbhagwat geeta.

    red indians were ONE OF THEIR OWN KIND, their culture was priceless. i have read dozens of louis l amour novels and am really bowled over by their oneness with nature and deep wisdom.

    if you are really liking the stories i am really happy. because its not my hundred percent effort.. i am just practicing. :)

    i will love it if you assess my other two stories too, once in a while.. i am a bit unsure how they are progressing.

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  9. Nice, this story is really good. As I said earlier too, it shows good involvement. If you can make the reader feel what the character feels then you really don't have to worry about anything else at all.

    Nice work dear Trisha

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  10. Oh, I had already said something about your other two stories. I think you have seen it too. Good going.

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  11. dearest sam,

    this is a realistic story.. there is no masala in it. simple reality based story.

    glad that you liked it, but it is going to be really serious and long.. be prepared.

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  12. p.s. thanks for being so sweet.. i have a little inferiority complex about my stories and articles..
    i am really glad that you take out time to read them seriously.

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  13. The story is nicely coming along. There is no need for an inferiority complex.

    We live in our own time and space. No one can appropriate that. So our views on life would have that uniqueness always.Rest is the technique, it becomes good as we write more.

    Good going

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  14. dearest sam,
    thanks for the encouragement.. and we live in an age where finding out a unique theme takes brilliance.. so i just polish the old themes..

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  15. Thats nice, as I mentioned earlier too, there are only so much themes we have. We dress them in different attire to make them appear different

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  16. dearest sam,
    i guess so.. every conept of human life has been written by one or the other writer.. there is only one field new.. science fiction and i dont know much about it :(

    i only know about human beings and their relationships and that has not changed much since the cave era.

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  17. Boy, you are pretty fast worker, I have been away for a day and you have twice updated the tale :)

    Anyway dearest Trisha, the story is progressing nicely. It is spiced up with details and is assuming the look of a well planned out one. I like it.

    Good work

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  18. dearest sam,
    this story will be a step to step short trip to reality.. do let me know the moment it becomes slack.

    there is another thing i want to tell you. after i have completed the stories here.. i will rework on them, just proof reading and a little editing, will remove the dates and put them up in another blog.. to check their real worth. i will add the url in this blog after i am done.


    thanks a ton for joining my doll house and playing with me.. :)

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  19. No problem dearest Trisha, the stories would only become better by working on them. And yes, let others see them, that is the whole purpose of this exercise isn't it?

    Make them into wonderful stories when you publish them for others to see. How are you in grammar? Pretty good? Do a thorough search for any errors before you send the stories out :)

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  20. dearest sam,
    i will publish them in wordpress also. i also can note that, since you have started to thoroughly read them and comment on them the stories have started to improve a lot ..

    it would have never happened other wise. :)

    i have checked some other story blogs but they are horrible, full of gory stories and glibberish..

    i think as its right now my hobby, i will just stick to Blogspot, wordpres and you :)

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  21. Well thank you dearest Trisha, only glad to be of service. But I also think that you are improving, may be not because of my suggestions, but because of your own enterprise. There is a good solid story teller in you.

    Do some real research into Indian women, their evolution, their transition, their changing thought structure, their economic dependency, moral as well as ethical problems they face, picture them in all their aspects, mother daughter, wife, sister, child, rural, urban, employed unemployed, you know, you can write about them from different angles, you have the talent, some work on it would make the stories flow.

    Just imagine that you are the most wonderful story teller ever. You will become one soon enough and I am not joking :) This too is a needed exercise. People tend to believe what you believe in yourself

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  22. dearest sam,
    I know a lot about indian women (somehow people love to confide to me) but i dont write about them because too many people are writing about this topic day in and day out..

    i dont know about other parts of india but bengalis are OBSESSED with this topic, plights, dreams and other things of women. :)

    i dont want to write soaps or too much talked about topics, no use.

    thanks for the compliment. its all your encouragement.

    you are right, i will put karuna aka devadrita in test :) lets see...

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  23. Let us hope it would turn out good. Now that I am involved with your story for sometime, I barely think that I can be impartial in judging it. Yet your stories do look promising to me :)

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  24. dearest sam,

    you are an angel. have you read the stories in "sculpting stories" after i have put the final touches in them? did you see any thing missing? if yes, will you point that out there?

    well, i am yet to become optimist about my stories.. :)

    but i really enjoy writing them, and really, really appreciate that you read them individually with care. thanks a ton!!!!!

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  25. This is a nice story dearest Trisha, but I think you are slightly over crowding events in the last post. There was too much mental work going on. Consider it again. It can be split into two parts or lengthened. The fin difficulties, problem with the family etc could be enough to account for one post. Take the friction between the bosses and the office politics separately.

    Nice work any way dearest Trisha

    No I haven't yet been to your new blog. I am planning to. Its just a lack of time and voltage problem in this locality. My hours at computer is minimal now

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  26. dearest sam,
    thats the maximum space i can give that episode, so i can go slack on some other things..

    i will have to write this one story in this manner, there will be some tight beads joined together by lace.. its a huge story, i am yet to finish its one third.. :(

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  27. Thats lovely :)
    I thought you were trying to finish it off too quick. I am consoled :)

    Happy witting dearest Trisha, pull up a real stunner :)

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  28. dearest sam,
    i will need your honest help in that, this one is a real task to me too... :( i want to make it my best shot.

    thanks for the things you pointed out...

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  29. Dearest Trisha,

    This one I can rate as your best effort yet. It is a naturally powerful story with every element of drama in it. It can become a psychological thriller if you really put yourself into it. Have you considered bugging for listening to what is talked about behind doors? Yet it is not necessary if the your friends were the main culprits in this regard.

    There are all kinds of tools now for such things. If you bring them in ( I don't know if it is your style) it would modernize it and make it current. Its a suggestion though. Write in the manner you like.

    As you said this could be your best effort. Get it finished first and revise it still perfect. If you put yourself into it, it could really turn out to be a winner.

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  30. dearest sam,
    just wait as this story unfolds itself and keep the eye of a serious critic on this one for me..

    its so huge that i am afraid that it may slacken, thats when i will need your comments to spruce it up.

    i will revise it again and again after finishing.

    well, you guessed it right, it was bugging.. in reality. but a young girl was not supposed to guess it at the first go, she will suspect spying by maids.. is not it? or by a spurned admirer.

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  31. I am all admiration for this piece of yours dearest Trisha. It is really good and I am not voicing meaningless words here. All through our friendship I have never bothered to disguise what I am thinking at anytime.

    I like the story. This portion especially is powerfully narrated. No crowding of incidents as I noted in the earlier post. All the characters are alive and highly visible. Your involvement is paying rich dividends in this story.

    You have amply made it clear that my belief in you is not misplaced.

    Very good work dearest Trisha, barring your past tense beauty spot which occur here and there, this has been a nice reading experience for me. Honestly it is making me see things and moves me away from the position of a critic to one who is attracted by the story. That is the best thing to happen to a story.

    Very well done dearest Trisha, don't slack :)

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  32. dearest sam,

    well that mixture of tense can be ignored we will see to it later, when the story is finished, you can do the proof reading till then and when the story finishes you can send me the corrected thing... i will send you a big chocolate for that, ok?

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  33. Dearest Trisha

    Okay, I will do it for my friend and not the chocolate. You can have it in my stead :)

    What about some of your other friends , would they be willing to proof read your stories? They might have more English than both of us together :)

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  34. dearest sam,

    as i said, you are the solo reader of my story.. i dont think i will get another one.. that is why i told you that i am "yet to believe" that i am a good writer of stories.

    :)

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  35. What can I say dearest Trisha, I am totally confused.

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  36. dearest sam,

    i will have to split this story in three parts.. the machine is almost crashing everytime i am trying to add the episodes :)

    naturally it will go as Part 2 and Part 3... :)

    dont be confused.. :)

    i go by simple statistics, if your work is good you will get readers, and those who will read you once will keep on reading, till date i have got only one sincere reader so i am happy and content with that. you help me more than you can understand .. in passing my time in a way that will help me from every angle. my writing has improved in millionfolds because of you.

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  37. Dearest Trisha,

    I go by the saying of Krishna

    "Those who are selfishly motivated are wretched and poor and are inferior Arjuna, practice equanimity (Yoga) arduously."

    I am only glad to help

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  38. dearest sam
    i too agree.. i may not help everyone.. but if i help anyone i will do it simply as help, and will think of his best :)

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  39. Dearest Trisha,

    You think I am otherwise? That I am out to trick you out of money or something? Or have any ulterior motive? May your gods forgive you for that, mine would never :) :) :)

    It was said in fun. I don't think of this as help. I do not help my friends. I think they are part of me.

    I don't help myself, I only do what I think is needed.

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  40. johnny seems to be in a really playful mood, especially his comments on my first slot of "Cursed Part 2" tells so.. screams so actually.

    have the pixies captured johnny's keyboard completely?

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  41. I like this "johnny" thing :) I can really tell when you like me a little better by it :)


    That comment is an effort to liven things up on the blog. You know, I have stopped being a critic of your stories as you demanded and am taking them as "just stories" now. So instead of being the "yes guy" always I am trying to liven up the comments by some of my quirky contributions.

    I am planning to be pleasantly inventive with it. It will delight you as we go along. You too are a lovably invetive soul. You even take your psychic abilities to be real and base your life on them:)

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  42. i dont base my life on my psychic abilities.. i think you are a little confused, any way, all of us are confused..

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  43. sorry i forgot to add, reading a story to criticize it is a bad habit, its better if you read a story as a story, and then point out any thing which you feel as mistake or give some points which you think will enhance the charm of the story.

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  44. Com. 1) at least that shows you like Kali. She looks the best when depicted thus :-J

    Com.2)Yeah, from chaos comes order. I like confusion, in fact I love it and revel in it. but I doubt whether you like it all that much dearest Trisha.

    Com.3) So I gather, it seems to in my best interests to try to enhance the charm of the stories, now like that.

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  45. You have inaugurated a new style in commenting I see. But I am not feeling like smiling now. Too sad for that ;)

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