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Let's run away?

 Our lives had brutally changed in the past three weeks. We had been posted to a God forsaken place in the East. It had all been painstaking to travel, then locate our new haven but setting up our house was a dream come true. We had been married for three months and 17 days to be exact and placing the “Mannat Amteshwar Sandhu” board on the entrance proved everything worth the effort. My green apple sanitizer’s fragrance desperately tried to mask the stench of our freshly whitewashed MES accommodation. We spent the whole day dealing with his trophies, cut glass crockery, curtains, kitchen counter repairs and tracking his beloved Apache. The night was dark and the moon was the only light when I went for the assemblage of my library.  I couldn’t help but marvel at the biblical books of medicine and my astounding  collection of novels, that I had hoarded all my life, look like relics in the museum. Amteshwar called out for me and I peeked at him with pride and contentment thr...
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Coffee Shop



Dear Clementine

I am writing to you today. Yes, I know. It surprised me too. There are certain days when your memories come back to poke me. I wouldn't use the word 'haunt' because, they never did. And today I guess, was one of those days.

In the afternoon, I was sitting by myself, hunched up over a desk, working on something. The radio was on and a familiar tune shook me up straight. The same old song about falling in love at a coffee shop.

I had made it a point never to listen to it, consciously.
But you can't really control the radio. 
Can you?

Do you remember the time when you made me listen to the song and I was least interested? Because the name sounded very clichéd? Trust me, at that moment your excitement and the smile on your face forced me to make an exception. And boy. I got hooked to it. 

The very next day when we were lying under the blanket, tired and happy in each other's arms, something got over me. I took the guitar and I sang the song for you. The thing is, people falling in love at a coffee shop is rare. And pure. Clubs, pubs, and discothèques might be the places to fall in each other's arms while dancing. But in a coffee shop, you are there with a mere cup of coffee, frosty windows, and looking into each other's eyes and actually trying to have a real conversation about life, dogs, and people. 

And I guess at that point, that was the thing which mattered to you.

I know most probably this is going to be one of those letters which might or might not be received. And I know that it's going to find it's a rightful place in the fireplace, burning away to ashes in flames. The kind of flames you have for your man right now.

But you can't really control the radio.

Can you?

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