An impacting story

This post is about a story that can make an impact on you.

‘It was the winter of 1980; the 7th of December, to be exact. I still remember the day so vividly; it could’ve been yesterday.’

‘Mmhmm’, I said, bending my neck a little forward.

‘I was at my tailor shop as usual. The winter was unusually cold, so my business had been pretty brisk that month; more than half of my work that week had been knitting sweaters for kids. Red, pink, blue – ah, you name it, the kids loved wearing those.’

I felt like I saw a hint of a tear in his eyes.

‘Then two tall, well-built men appeared suddenly from nowhere’, he continued, ‘I had never seen them anywhere before. They came in, and asked for two army-style jackets. I gave them a place to sit, brought my tape, and made them stand one by one and took their measurements. Army jackets were quite in vogue in those days, and I had a row of them ready at my shop. I gave them the jackets that matched their sizes, wrote the receipt on a slip of paper…’

His face stiffened as he spoke these last words. ‘What happened then?’, I said. I was getting really curious.

‘I gave them the piece of paper, they paid the money and left. They seemed to be in a hurry..’
The words were coming out so mechanically from his mouth, it looked like he had said the same story a hundred times over.

‘The next day, I was watching news on the small TV set I had in my shop. All of a sudden, a flash appeared on the screen: “BREAKING NEWS! TERRORISTS OPEN FIRE AT NEW DELHI RAILWAY STATION”. I was numb for a few seconds. The only one in the world whom I could call close to me – my brother – was in Jaipur, so I just shut my eyes and whispered a silent prayer hoping that everyone could be saved somehow.’

‘My friend lost his sister in that massacre’, I said.

‘I saw visuals of the shootout on TV later, captured from CCTV cameras. There were two tall men wearing army jackets shooting at everyone they could see. It was horrifying.’

‘Then?’

‘The police managed to shoot down one of the terrorists after seven minutes. 57 people had died’, he said, a solemn look on his face now. ‘The other one escaped. He had simply vanished. The police was on the hunt for a week, and still they had no clue. The public was getting livid at the police and government authorities – and rightly so. How could a man just kill so many people and escape? Where was he now? Where would his next attack be? The whole nation was in a state of shock.’

‘I see’, I said, deeply intrigued. The incident had happened three years before I was born, and since I was never properly educated, it was the first time I’d been hearing about it in so much detail.

‘The government was getting desperate. With elections coming up in two weeks, this sort of a debacle would grossly dent their chances. They needed a way out, to assuage the public that they were on to something. And I was their answer.’

‘I…didn’t quite understand.’

‘The police had searched the pockets of the sole terrorist whom they had shot down. In his army jacket was a receipt. And on the receipt, there was the name of my shop.’

‘And..?’, I said, as things finally began to form a picture in my head.

’15 December. It all happened in a flash. A jeep came and parked in front of my shop, and two armed policemen got down, a slip of paper in one of their hands. Before I could make sense of what was happening, there were handcuffs on my wrists and I was being dragged into the van. Then I was locked inside and before I got down, a black cloth was put over my face. They said I had been arrested for aiding the terrorists.’ A lump began to form in his throat now.

‘The police had finally got a “lead” on the case. The public had calmed down a little. A poor man with a small tailor shop with no one to look after had done it for money, or maybe was just a psychopath – I was the perfect accomplice. The public never got to know of the details of my arrest – they were just told that the police were progressing on the case.’

‘God, that is so unfortunate.’ I whispered.

‘The starting few days were unimaginable. It was like my life had turned upside down. I thought I was dreaming. I was locked in a dark room and food was thrown at me twice a day. The saddest part of the whole thing was that I was not even in a position where I could die. The guards kept watch over me. I was tortured every night – forced to confess that I had been a part of the crime. And each time I refused, they beat me harder.’

I had no words to say.

‘As the reality began to sink in, I resigned myself to this fate. Three months after I had been put in this jail, I was informed by one of the guards that my brother – my only living relative – had died of tuberculosis. That was the moment when I lost all desire to live. Or to die. To do anything.’

There was a long pause.

‘Slowly, I began to stitch clothes for the inmates here. If there was one thing I was good at in this world, it was stitching and knitting. It gave me a portal of escape from the misery of my life here – when I was with my thread and needle, I forgot everything else.’

‘Was there no one to help you?’

‘No one in the outside world knew me – or rather, no one cared.’, he said, with a tone of indifference in his voice.

‘Did you never think of escaping?’

‘There was no chance. I wouldn’t have minded being shot while trying to escape – but the guards wouldn’t allow even that. Plus, what use would I be of even if I escaped? My shop was gone for good; I would’ve had to beg on the streets.’

This was the story of inmate no. 10874, locked in Raigad Jail since twenty-six years for a crime he hadn’t committed. His life had been shattered to pieces – the official death toll of the terrorist attack was 57, but they had failed to include this man whose life had been snuffed out of his body slowly yet completely, all these years. He had been turned into a living corpse.

I had been put into the same prison cell as him three years ago on account of a burglary case. There was another man in the same cell who had joined us just four months ago – he had been caught stealing food from a shop to feed his starving son. The father never came back ‘home’, and the son died. In these circumstances, was there ever any right and wrong?

It was upon hearing the story of this new entrant into our cell that No. 10874 had suddenly been moved. He felt like he had a job to be done in this world – an unfinished business. ‘I am wasting my life away’, he told us one cold night. It was probably the first time in years that he had uttered the words, “my life”. There was a newfound spring in his step – he seemed to walk with a sense of purpose. As ironic as it may sound, the death of one had infused life into another. It was like he suddenly realized that he had to make a difference – however small a difference he could make.

And thus over the rainy nights of 2006, an intricate plan was hatched. A plan for No. 10874’s escape from this hellhole, into the world where he could begin his life anew and probably be in a position to help others. He believed that if he had stayed alive for all these twenty-six years, it wasn’t meant to go waste after all. And if he got caught while trying to escape, he had nothing to lose anyway.

Tonight, the moment had finally come. I had a matchbox and a bunch of matchsticks in my hand; my job was to light the fire in case I heard even the slightest noise of the guards twitching from their sleep. My friend had discovered a way out through the pipeline from the latrine next to our cell; we had spent the last two months gnawing away at the edges of the drainage outlet with a stone we had found in the prison grounds. The stone, a needle, a piece of cloth, a few threads and an old watch we’d dug out from the ground were the only possessions we had in the cell. The door of the latrine was right across the corridor.

I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. "Ten, nine, eight, seven..." Counting the seconds seemed to me to be the only way to try and pacify my pounding heart.

The prison was dead silent except for the snores of a few. My matchsticks were ready to be lit up. He slowly unhinged the door, walked through it and closed it back again. I heard a very faint sound – that of him unscrewing the pipeline. And then…

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Navigation saves the day

Raju, Arnav and Tina finally decided to go on their getaway tour in January 2016. They had been planning it for three years now, but one of the three was busy, and they had had to cancel every time. They had planned to go to the beautiful city of Shimla and their excitement knew no bounds! However, little did they know what fate had in store for them. This is how their story unfolded:

The three of them were trekking up a hill, about ten kilometres from the city. This was their favourite thing in the whole world; they had gone on numerous hiking sessions together when they were kids. The Himalayas, however, were a new challenge altogether. They had never trekked in such cold weather before – and especially since it was the month of January, temperatures were hovering around 5 degrees Celsius for most part of the day. It was like being inside of a refrigerator. Coupled with the steep climb of the hills, this was no easy task. But that’s what made it all the more fun! The tougher the challenge, the more exciting it was. The scenery was rewarding, and they felt that it was definitely worth the hardship.

Raju had been feeling a little dizzy since morning. He didn’t have the habit of eating much anyway, and in the cold weather, it was a bit straining upon him. While they were trekking, he couldn’t keep up to pace at all with the other two.

“Raju, are you there?”, shouted Tina.
There was no reply.

“Raaaaaaaa-aaaajuuuuuu!” This time the two of them shouted in unison.
They could hear a faint muffled scream from far below. At that point, they knew something had gone wrong.

They went down quickly only to find Raju huddled up in a corner. The cold had been too much for him – he was going pale!

"Raju!" Tina yelled, dropping to her knees, next to him. "Are you alright?"

Raju could hardly answer. They knew they had to go to a hospital immediately. Arnav helped Raju up, and they somehow managed to make their way to the car they had rented.

That’s when they realized – they were in an unknown place with no person in sight. How could they possibly reach anywhere?

That’s when Arnav had an idea. “Hey, do you have navigation in your phone?”
“Y-yes, I do…”, muttered Tina.
“Then give it to me! Quick!”

Arnav googled “hospitals near me” and in a matter of time, they were able to locate their way to the nearest hospital. It wasn't anything serious at all! The doctors fixed Raju up in just a couple of hours.
And that’s the story of how navigation saved the day.

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

The impact of his daughter

Rajesh Kumar was a famous politician. He was an important minister of the ruling party and thus, had a huge influence in the daily working of the government. Of course, he did have one thing in common with other politicians that he knew; he wasn't always very honest. A large amount of the money he earned wasn't by legal ways. In fact it was this money that was the reason for his lavish lifestyle.

His family lived in a gigantic mansion and his kids were raised like princes and princesses. They went to the best schools and tuition centres; they basically had the best of everything! He loved his children a lot. One day, he saw something that moved his heart and impacted him in a way that changed him forever.

“Here are your flaps, Sameera” Rajesh told his daughter, tucking her flaps into place and buttoning them up. “And your stars. I'm proud of you, honey,” he told her, pinning her prefect stars to her flaps.
His daughter smiled as he kissed her forehead and took her out to the front yard, where the bus would pick her up.
After he waved goodbye, he went back to his room where the maid’s daughter had kept a warm cup of tea ready for him.

…
One evening just after he had come back a little earlier than usual from a meeting, he heard the voice of two girls coming from her daughter’s room. This was odd; his daughter was supposed to be alone at this time and there were never usually any friends over at their house.

The door was open. He went inside and saw something strange - his daughter was sitting next to her maid’s daughter, and they appeared to be reading something. He looked closer; they were reading what appeared to be a kindergarten book. Surprised, he shouted, “What are you doing with her, Sameera?!”
The two girls stopped immediately. The maid’s daughter quickly ran out of the room.
“Er, Dad.. noth-nothing….”, his daughter stammered.
“Why are all these LKG books here?”, he asked.
“Er.. I was trying to teach Kaveri how to read and write, Daddy..”
“Don’t you have anything to study?”
“My exams got over just yesterday, Daddy. I finally found the time to teach her something. She is very interested in studying, Daddy.” said Sameera.

Rajesh didn’t speak a word; he silently went back to his room and thought about what his daughter had said. Here was his daughter, of his very own blood, who took out the time to teach their maid’s daughter how to read the next day after her exams - when she could easily be touring the city with her friends in their Mercedes. And what was he doing, looting public money and spending it all on his personal luxuries?

That incident deeply impacted his life and he decided to be a changed man after that. He went on to set up a big charity foundation which strived to provide education to thousands of poor children across the country. And the name of that organization? Yes, you guessed it right. It was named the Sameera Foundation for the Education of Children.

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

A pleasant surprise

Tina got out of the shower, her hair dripping wet. She rubbed the ends dry with a towel, rushing to get to her phone. It had beeped; it must be a message from Arun. He'd been working late many nights in a row. To make up for it, he'd plan a magical dinner date the next night he thought he might be free, but he ended up having to deal with some last minute work again, cancelling on her. That cycle had repeated more than once in the past couple of weeks, so Tina was worried that it'd be the same tonight, when she'd heard her phone beep from inside the shower.

But what she saw puzzled her; it was a message from Arun, that had nothing except the directions to some location that seemed to be very near her house. She switched on navigation, slipped on a pair of PJ's and went outside the house, following the voice in her phone. She had stepped out of her apartment, went down the stairs, and across the street to another apartment, and -

"Please turn to your right," the woman's voice said. Tina turned right and walked three steps before the voice said, "You are now at your destination." She looked up, bewildered. There was nothing there except the watchman and a package in his hand.

"This is for you," he said, handing it to her. She took it, thanked him, and went back to her apartment, smiling to herself. This is what she loved about Arun; when it came to surprises, he went all out!

Tina went back home, ripped open the cover and opened it. There was a beautiful red dress inside. She threw it on as fast as possible and looked into the mirror. She couldn't help but let a small gasp escape her lips; she looked stunning. She busied herself with make up and accessories, waiting for Arun to turn up. But he didn't; all that she got was another beep in her phone, with new directions!

This time, the place was rather far away. Tina got into her Tata Zica, entered the coordinates and drove wherever navigation took her. She drove on for almost forty minutes, and finally, at the end of a long, straight road, she heard the words, "You are now at your destination." She breathed a sigh of relief and got out of the car.

And there he was, the most handsome man in the world as she knew it.
"Arun!" she said, getting out of the car. "This place is absolutely beautiful!"
They were standing at the side of a lake, with a small stage set up for them, and a dinner table on it with a candle on top. There was also what looked like a lovely meal!
"Tina," Arun said, going down on one knee. "Will you marry me?"
He was holding out the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen in her life.
"Oh, my!" Tina said, too shocked for words. She paused a few seconds before she could reply.
"Yes. Yes! Yes, oh my God!" She exclaimed, letting him slip the ring on to her finger and enveloping him in a hug.

What a wonderful way navigation was to surprise someone!

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Love in the midst of music

Summer of 2008:
Arnav watched as Shreya played kho kho with her friends. The way she laughed. Her smile. The way she ran. Her competitive spirit. The way her school dress fit on her. He liked her so much! But she didn't like him back. He knew it; they were different people, with different types of friends. He sighed. Maybe some people were never meant to be together; he was going to have to get over that fact.

...
March 2010:
It'd been three years since Arnav had started liking Shreya. Everything about her was perfect, and always would be. Their tenth grade board exam results were out, and the entire batch was in school for the awards ceremony.
Shreya had gotten the most marks in French, and was on stage to collect her medal and certificate. Arnav wondered. What if this was the right time to approach her with his 'proposal'? They were old enough now, weren't they? He waited until she got back to her seat in the crowd, next to her friend, and then he mustered up the courage to get up and occupy the seat on her other side.
A tiny drop of sweat formed at his brow as he wondered what to say. Shreya looked directly at him; his heart skipped a bit.
"Shreya," he pushed himself to say.
"Yeah?" She said, sounding formal. Of course she sounded formal; she had never spoken to Arnav directly, and the rumours that he liked her hadn't escaped her ears, so she preferred not to have any kind of relationship with him. Not even friendship.
"I think you already know that I like you. So..." His voice trailed off.
First Shreya looked bewildered; then she looked embarrassed. Arnav felt a little bad for putting her on the spot like that.
"I- well- uh," she sputtered.
"I think I've got an answer," he said, smiling sadly, and standing up.
Shreya paused for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry."

...
March 2013:
What were the odds! Arnav and Shreya ended up being the only few who went to the same coaching, and now they even were in the same college. She still maintained sufficient distance, and there was always awkward silence whenever they were forced to speak to one another. Year after year, Shreya turned into a woman from a young girl, and Arnav's heart ached to know that she would never be his.
Tonight was one of those forced uncomfortable situations of awkward silence between the two; it was musical night in college, and the two of them had arrived too early for any of their other friends to be around yet.
'This is silly,' Shreya had thought, before she went over to speak to Arnav, who was sitting a little away from her.

For a while they only spoke about class, the subjects and exams; the formal stuff. But then the lights went out, and the first band to perform went up on stage. Shreya had no choice but to stay seated next to him.
"I love this song," Arnav told her, tapping his fingers to the rhythm.
Shreya's head jerked in his direction. "Really?!" She exclaimed. "I love this song too! It's so underrated!"
"Haha, yeah!"
They spent the entire show talking about their music interests; which kind of music was overrated, their favourite songs that didn't get as much recognition as they'd have liked- everything! Their tastes were so inexplicably similar that it knocked the wind out of Shreya. She'd never met anyone so much like her!
And that's how the two of them hit it off.
Once their friends showed up, Arnav and Shreya were too busy to pay any attention to them. They went from topic to topic, telling each other everything there was to be told.
'He's so easy to talk to,' Shreya thought.
'She's so much more beautiful now that I know her too,' Arnav thought.
'He's charming,' she thought.
And that's the tale of how music joined two hearts in love!

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

The time when we were lost

It was a bright, sunny morning in the summer of 2015. We were all getting ready to go to watch Khaleja. I was a big fan of Mahesh Babu and so were my friends. We were a gang of seven, so we decided to take two cars; three in one car and four in another. We had planned to reach the hall within half an hour; however, the story unfolded very differently.

The car which I was in led the way, and we only assumed that the second car was following us. That was true for a while, but in some time, we turned around to see that we had lost them. We went on with trying to find our way to the theatre anyway; they would ask someone along the way to guide them and make it there as well. There's no dearth of people walking on the road to ask directions from in India, anyway. Only after twenty minutes did we realize that they weren't the ones we had to be worried about. We were lost!

We tried asking the pedestrians for directions but none of them could explain the way with clarity and we kept getting into narrower lanes. At one point I felt like we were just going around in circles, until we finally hit a dead end. It was then that a kind old stranger offered to guide us back to the main road. He rode on his two wheeler and we followed him, breathing a sigh of relief at the first wide road that we hit. We thanked him and then went our way. With the help of another two or three people, we finally managed to reach the cinema hall just in time.

But alas! The tickets were sold out. We called our friends to inform them that there were no tickets and they could turn around and go back home no matter where they were. But to our surprise they were sitting in the cinema hall and munching popcorn! They had taken tickets for us too, and told us the seat numbers and asked us to come as soon as possible, since the trailers were almost over.

After we finally settled in our seats, we got around to talking about how they had found their way and managed to reach the cinema hall so quickly.
"Nisha, how did you figure out the route to get here? I thought you guys were lost!"
"What?" Nisha laughed. "It was actually pretty simple, Sameera!"
"How? We got lost in some crazy maze of roads," I told her, only to hear some more laughing.
"Didn't you use navigation?" Nisha asked. And that's when I realized how unfortunate it was not to have inbuilt navigation in our car.
"Well, no," I told her. "We don't have a Tata Zica now, do we?"

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Little Tom gets kidnapped

Little Tom's muffled screams were audible outside the van that was taking him away. Amarnath was a strong and able business man, and for the first time in his career, a tiff at work lead to interference in his personal life. His arch rival had hired goons to kidnap his son, take him to his farm house in Nellore, and demand ransom.

Tommy was frightened, even more than when his playschool teacher threatened to hit him with a long, iron scale. This was the scariest time of his life. The big men around him weren't treating him nicely at all, and he was doing all that he could; screaming with all his might, even though his mouth was covered by someone's hand. The hand was partly suffocating him. He couldn't stop squirming around, which annoyed the goons even more.

Tommy wasn't too worried, though. He'd seen his father's car following them, a little while ago, in the distance. Daddy was out to get these bad men, and when he did, they would all be pulverized to death.

...

A little behind the van was Amarnath, driving his car, with a high rank police officer sitting next to him. The police van was on it's way, but further behind.

"Did we lose them?" The officer asked.

"Oh no, don't say that," Amarnath said, frowning. But he was right; there was no car ahead of them. Nevertheless, he kept driving on the straight road.

Amarnath did know that Srinath, his rival had a farm house in Nellore, one that he was rumoured to carry out illegal businesses. He was rumoured to be guilty of six kidnaps and four murders since the start of his career, and those numbers were the reason for Amarnath's worry.

...

"Get out," the leader of the gang ordered his subordinate. "Get out and flip that boards."

They were at crossroads. There was a pole placed at the center, with arrows that directed travellers to their destination. Nellore was to the right, and Badvel to the left; the leader's idea was to reverse the directions and mislead Amarnath and the police.

One of the goons in the backseat got out, and managed to dig up, reverse the pole, and bury it back in the mud, leaving it looking like it hadn't ever been touched.

"Let's drink chai," the gang leader said, in the van. "Let's celebrate!" He laughed, proud of his idea to mislead the police. Now they didn't have to hurry.

...

"Damn it," Amaranth cursed. Poor Tommy must be so scared, he thought.

They approached a junction.

"To the left," the policeman said.

"Are you sure?" Amarnath asked.

"Yeah, look there," he said pointing at the signboard. "It says Nellore to the left."

"My navigation says Nellore to the right," Amarnath frowned, pointing at the small screen in his car.

"Okay I guess that's more reliable," the police officer agreed. They took a right, and continued searching for the van.

They found it parked outside a small dhaba. Soon enough, the police van behind them caught up as well. The police arrested the goons and Amarnath went to the Van to hug his son.

 "Daddy! I knew you would come," Tommy said, running into his father's arms.

"Yes, son. I am your saviour, and Navigation is mine. Thank god we have inbuilt navigation in our Tata Zica!"

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Shruti's journey - Part 3

This is the third part of a series. Click here to read Part 2.

“Bhargav, do you know where we are?” Anil asked.

“Idiot, you said you wouldn't get us lost.” Bhargav said.

“We're not lost. We just have to ask someone how to get to Ergin hotels. I'm sure it's famous, and it looks like a pretty small town.”

“I thought we were using navigation,” Shruti piped up. She was awful at directions as it was, and the thought of her deep rooted fear of getting lost in a new and unknown land frightened her.

“No dude, my phone doesn't have network. Anil’s phone lost service ages ago, too. Do any of yours have service?” Bhargav asked.

Everyone checked their phones.

“No.”

“Nope”

“No..” came the replies. 

“It's alright dude. I think I remember the way. I zoomed in and tried to memorise the map before, so I think we're good.”

“You sure?” Pallak asked.

“Well I'll keep going, and we'll ask the first person we find on the road.” That sounded like a plan.

Anil kept going, and it seemed quite like he knew where they were headed. The rest of the car slowly drifted off to sleep, but Shruti and Anil stayed awake, searching for a board that would lead them to their hotel, or a person to ask for directions. But there was none; it was quite late into the night, and it wasn't a time for people to be out on the streets in a small town like this one.

“Hey there's a light in that shop,” Shruti exclaimed, pointing. Anil drove closer, and Shruti put her hand on the handle of her door to get down and ask.

“You crazy or what?” Anil said, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. He got off went down to the shop instead, and came back with a rather embarrassed expression. “They're utterly drunk in there. Good thing you didn't go,” he told Shruti.

A little more time had the seven friends completely lost, to the extent that their car was on a kaccha road, surrounded by nothing except trees and bushes. All of them were awake now, aware that they were in the middle of nowhere.

“I need some air,” Rishika said. “It's kind of suffocating in here.”

“Let's just stop here,” Bhargav said, patting Rishika’s back. She was asthmatic, so he was worried for her. “The pucca road isn't so far from here, I'm sure it's safe.”

So Anil pulled over, and soon they were having a typical bonfire night, just like in the movies. Everyone was sitting around the fire, on logs or rocks that they found nearby. Shruti watched as each person drifted off to sleep, Anil being the first. He hadn't slept in over thirty hours, so that was expected. Rihaan and Harsh fell asleep on each other. Shruti didn't forget to take a picture of their “bromance” after she was done quietly giggling to herself. Kalyan reclined on his conveniently L-shaped log and let his head fall back as he snored. Rishika fell asleep with her head in Bhargav’s lap, holding his hands for their warmth. The smile on Shruti’s face vanished.

Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani was playing loudly on the screen. The A/C in the cinema hall was turned up unnecessarily high. It was chilly, but Raghav’s comfortably large hand was the store of heat that Shruti needed. She held his hand, and lifted it up to her face and pressed her cheek against it, smiling. She would be able to survive Alaska if she was with him.

And suddenly Shruti remembered another time.

They were alone, in Raghav’s room, fighting as they'd been doing all the time they had together these days.

“Well what do you want from me Raghav!” Shruti screeched.

“You know what I want, you bitch,” he yelled, advancing towards her. It was instinct; Shruti got out of her seat and darted across the room. But she wasn't fast enough-

Shruti felt a hand on her shoulder that made her jump.

“Shruti, are you alright?” It was Anil.

“Are you okay?” He asked again. Shruti nodded rapidly, blinking back her tears.

“Are you sure? You're shivering,” he said.

“I'm okay,” she said, trying to laugh it off. “Just a little cold.”

“Here,” Anil said, pushing a rather large stone closer to the fire for her. Shruti shifted onto the rock, and put her arms down behind her on Anil’s log. Soon enough, she put her head down, too, and slept.

She was woken up a few hours later, by a -”Hey! I've got signal!”

“Quick, switch on navigation and take close up screenshots,” Kalyan said.

And that's how they finally found their way to the hotel.

to be continued....

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Shruti's journey - Part 2

This is the second part of a series. Click here to read Part 1.

Anil shook his head, trying to keep his eyes open.

“What's wrong, are you tired?” Shruti asked him. Kalyan had exchanged seats with her so that she would finally stop complaining about Anil’s driving. Shruti was now in the front seat, all buckled up with her seat belt, so there was no chance of flying off her seat and landing on anyone.

“No I'm good,” Anil told her. He preferred to be the one in control of the car. Believe it or not, he got insecure when anyone else was driving. Except Shruti of course; she drove slower than some bicycles. It was a sharp contrast to her fast moving, happy nature though. One would expect her driving style to be much more like her, bouncy and peppy, and not like a grandma’s.

“Do you want me to take over for a while?” Shruti asked, tilting her head and smiling at him.

She's so cute, Anil thought to himself.

“No thanks, tortoise. We'd like to reach Manali and go back in seven days, not take that long to get there,” he teased.

Shruti punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” He yelped.

He watched as Shruti switched to the radio mode and tuned into Manali channels. That means we're pretty close, Anil realised.

“What is this shit,” Shruti said, talking about some apparently old song, which sounded like it was recorded in the nineteen-fifties. She changed channels, until she finally landed on some peppy music. Anil glanced at his side to watch her dance along to it in her seat.

“Do you even know what language that is?” He asked her.

“Do you care?” She said, cheerily. Anil chuckled.

He liked this Shruti; this is the one he'd had a gigantic crush on when he first saw her. She was happy, with a smile that could light up an entire lecture hall, and so carefree that even just being around her felt like listening to peppy music. But as he got closer to her, he knew there was more to her than what she looked like. The rest of the gang, Diya, Rihaan, Kalyan, Harsh and Bhargav were always talking about how Shruti was little Miss Sunshine, but Anil knew better. She wasn't like them; she was like him. Her smile, as genuine as he knew it was, was hiding a darker story. He wondered what she was thinking about before people suddenly walked into her private moments and she had to switch back to her peppy mode. He'd always wanted to ask, but he felt two months of knowing someone wasn't enough to ask those kind of questions, especially when it was obvious that she preferred not to be discovered.

Anil turned as he heard the music turn up, and Shruti’s belt slip off of her with a ‘click’. She had turned around and faced the rest of the car, dancing as wholeheartedly as she could in the space she had. Anil smiled to himself, as he saw a sharp turn ahead. He took it without slowing down, and as everyone emitted a ‘whooo’, Shruti fell right onto him. Her cheek felt soft against his arm, and even with the impact of the speed, she was delicately light, for him. Her hand placed on his chest for support made his heart pound. She quickly got herself off and buckled herself back in her seat.

“Bitch,” she scolded him.

“You use that on a girl,” Anil told her, laughing.

“Well maybe that's why it's even more insulting on you,” Shruti said, hitting him.

Click here to read Part 3.

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Shruti's journey - Part 1

Shruti was awakened, to find herself in the air, a few inches above her seat. "Aargh!" She yelped angrily, as she landed partly on the seat partly and Bhargav who had been sitting next to her. The impact of the turn in the road had lifted her off and woken her up with a jerk.

"Anil, you idiot!" Shruti yelled, sliding back to her own seat. "Would it kill you to slow down before you turn?"

"Does it look like we're not turning at any point on this road?" Anil asked, turning around to face her.

 

"Oh my god, look ahead of you," Shruti said, burying her face in her hands. She had never been in a car that was being driven so rashly, and on a mountainside on the way to Manali, had to be the place she was when she experienced it. Shruti looked out the window. There wasn't even a railing of any sort at the edge of the mountain. Anil is a terrible driver, she decided.

“You shouldn't bother trying to shout, Shruti,” Bhargav told her, not bothering to swallow the cheetos he’d been chewing before he opened his mouth to speak. “Your voice doesn't get any louder, just squeakier and more annoying.”

“I hope my landing on you crushed you. I hope it hurt, Bhargav,” Shruti sneered.

“Of course it did, you're fat,” Bhargav said. Shruti slapped his back. “Shut up!” She shouted, hitting him more. “Shut up shut up shut up!”

“There we go again. What did I tell you about shouting?” Bhargav said.

“Shut up, both of you. Aman is going to die,” said a teary-eyed Rishika.

“Ugh,” Shruti said, rolling her eyes. Bhargav went back to watching Kal Ho Naa Ho on his tablet, with Rishika, his girlfriend.

Shruti turned back to the window, going back to sleep.

Shruti was in Raghav’s arms, sprawled across the grass. It was a summer day, but not as hot as it usually was in Hyderabad. It was just right. She looked up at him. He was perfect. Then she looked back down at his phone, and swiped to see the next photo.

Shruti’s eyes snapped open. She felt a lump in her throat. No, she told herself. Not here. Nobody knew what had happened to her, and she didn't plan on ever telling them. But she couldn't not think of it; it wasn't a wonder that it had such a humongous impact on her. Apart from it, Shruti had no complaints about her life. Or maybe when something this big happens, all your old complaints feel silly, she thought to herself. She focused on the beautiful scenery outside; greenery at eye level, and snow-capped mountains far off in the distance.

Shruti'd moved recently, to stay with her parents. Her friends at her new college were the best. Of course she didn't know for sure, because she hasn't had many friends in a long, long time. They'd been awfully nice to her. Shruti never felt that a lack of friends would be a problem when she relocated, because MBBS was capable of keeping a person busy enough to not realise that they had no social life. Now that she had a group of friends, though, she was glad that she didn't miss out on them.  They'd done everything they could to help her feel at home; they gave her notes to catch up before first internals, kept her informed about which teacher’s class was worth paying attention to, provided her with gossip in classes which weren't worth listening to, and helped her recognize which seniors she wanted to steer clear of. Now, they'd even invited her to go along with them to Manali, a trip they'd planned after the crazy stress of internals, to cool off. Shruti read about many people whose outlook on life had changed with the impact of travel. If she was lucky, maybe the same would happen to her.

This is the first part of a story. Click here to read Part 2.

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Friendship... truly fantastico

"I've never had an ideal best friend," Payal told Kajal. "Me neither," Kajal said, drawing on the wooden plank placed in front of her on her chair. She was sketching a pair of heels; the prettiest heels she could ever imagine. They were pretty high, with a strap below the toes, and another band at the ankle. At the corner of her mind, she wondered what she was doing pouring her heart out to a girl she'd met hardly three weeks ago. "You keep drawing the same pair of heels," Payal said. "Yeah well they're pretty," Kajal said, before she changed the topic back to the old one. "My old best friend stopped speaking to me because I said her sister had dandruff." Payal burst out laughing. "What a reason to break up with your bestie! I wonder if there are actually people out there who are mature enough to last forever." "I doubt it. I've tried enough, I'm not doing it anymore," Kajal laughed, dusting her perfect sketch and beginning another one; the same pair of heels, this time with a pretty pair of feet in them. "I've lost faith in the concept of best friends," Payal declared. "Me too," Kajal agreed wholeheartedly.

...

Four years later, Kajal and Payal went to college in different states, but they stayed in touch, and ironically, they were best friends. It was Kajal's 21st birthday. It was smack in the middle of exams, though, so it was a pretty dull birthday. There wasn't much going on, and it was kind of depressing. Around noon, Kajal heard the doorbell ring. She was sure it was the postman with Payal's courier; it was an unsaid custom between the two to post each other letters on birthdays. Kajal raced to the door and signed for her courier. It wasn't a letter though; it was a box. She wondered what it could be. Ripping off the wrapping while she walked back to her room, Kajal uncovered a white box with "CARLTON LONDON" printed over the front of it. She gasped, and fiddled with the box till it opened up.

There lay the most beautiful pair of stilettos she'd ever seen in her life. They were sparkling silver five inch heels, with a strap below the toes, and another band at the ankle. Kajal was awestruck. They looked a little familiar, but she didn't remember where she'd seen them. She found a letter folded neatly underneath, and opened it. "Kajal, Here's something to remind you of the day that we embarked on the journey of this friendship. You used to draw them on benches throughout the year; I hope you like them! Happy 21st, bestie. -P" Kajal was blown away by the gift. No one had ever done anything so amazing for her. To save up and buy something that expensive for a friend, that was simply fantastico! The feeling of being loved so earnestly by someone that she loved back was absolutely fantastico.

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Preethi's discovery

Preethi was a nice girl. She was pretty, kind-hearted and courteous, and no one disliked her. She was a darling daughter; her parents couldn't ask for anything better. She never did anything to upset anyone. In fact she couldn't even hurt a fly. She had a smile sweeter than honey, but it was very rarely that anyone got to see it. Preethi was often sad because she was alone. She didn’t have any friends. For some reason, no one ever wanted to be friends with Preethi, except one girl, Naini. Naini was so peppy and lively; she was the little Miss Sunshine of their school. The entire world was her friend, even the teachers! She loved company so much, and always got to be in it - so that just made her happier. Her vivacious attitude made her cute, even though she wasn't blessed with many physically attractive features. Preethi loved Naini, and wished that she could be as happy as her.

But then, somewhere in the corner of her mind, there lurked a little bit of jealousy every time she saw Naini prance about amidst all her friends. It broke her heart that she had just one friend. One sunny summer afternoon, Reene ma'am asked the class to submit their homework notebooks for correction, and they did. Forty five notebooks were too much for one teacher to carry to the staff-room alone, and she asked Naini for help. Incidentally, Preethi had been sitting next to her, so she brought the leftover books to the staff room for the teacher. In the staffroom, all the teachers were happy to see Naini. They greeted her with love, ruffled her hair and made fun of her playfully while Preethi stood in a corner and watched, waiting. She wondered why none of the teachers had even recognised her presence. She wondered why no one wanted to ruffle her hair, or tease her. Reene ma'am noticed the look on Preethi’s face and said, "Are you alright, child?". At that point, Preethi could take it no more. She burst into tears and wailed, "Why doesn't anyone like me, Reene ma'am? Why doesn't anyone want to talk to me? Why don't I have any friends? I'm a nice person, I don't like hurting anyone's feelings! Why shouldn't I have friends?" Reene ma'am walked Preethi out of the staff-room and sat down with her on a bench in an empty classroom. Preethi poured her heart out to her teacher. "Naini is my only friend in the entire school. She has so many friends! Why don't people like me?" Preethi cried. Reene ma'am frowned. "Nobody dislikes you, Preethi. But nobody likes you either." Preethi looked up. "What do you mean?" "You're a sweetheart, child. Everyone can guess that you're good at heart, but no one knows for sure. You never voluntarily speak to anyone, nor do you go out of your way to speak to anyone." Preethi seemed to make sense of what she was hearing. Renee ma'am was right. "To top it off, you've always got that sad frown on your face. You look like it's so easy to break you that people would rather not risk taking the chance! Naini is so peppy and full of life; no one can extinguish the energy she's got. She doesn't have a care in the world, and that is all takes to attract people to yourself."

Preethi thought long and hard about what she'd learnt that day. Her entire life made sense to her after realising those things, and she decided to be different. She owed it to herself! Preethi began to smile more, and fill herself with enthusiasm. The difference was easy to notice; on the first day of her change, she had almost half of the class trying to speak to her to understand what made the difference! And that's how she learnt the secret to making friends; being peppy is all it takes!

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.