Author - Jui Purohit.

  Link to the previous part - Previous Part. **************************************************** Kripa veered her laptop towards the other side, "Manasi, I've found some leads related to bamboo fabric. Come and have a look". Manasi pulled the chair and sat down across the desk with her notebook and pen to sort and jot down the important leads. "Ahaan Enterprises, Babulnath Coorp, Eminent Threads, Italian Works, Maharathi Coorp, Prithvi and Sons, Vigilant Textiles. Superb! I'm at it now. I'll visit them myself", Manasi enthusiastically said as she high fived Kripa. Kripa was about to say something when Manasi interrupted her, "No unproductive trips this time. I'll stick to the deadline Ma'am. Don't fret". Manasi did a 'zip the mouth' gesture. She went to the design board and glancing at the outfit murmured, "I hope you find your soulmate!". Kripa had zipped her mouth but instantly wanted to give a cue that their b...

Link to the previous part - Previous Part.   ************************************************************** "Bamboo! Yes, let's try bamboo fabric this time", Manasi stood up and exclaimed in a loud voice. She was having her 'Eureka' moment.  "That's a great suggestion", Kripa looked stunned. "Only thing, the boss should agree", keeping down the coffee mug in her hand, Kripa started sketching again. "Why not? That's a perfect marriage, this outfit and bamboo fabric", Manasi shifted her gaze to Kripa and suddenly, sat down. "Marriage! I wish I had possessed this insight sooner", Manasi's voice sounded low now. Kripa put the pencil down and looked at the design board, then walked towards Manasi. "Marriage...hmm! Some things are better forgotten dear", she patted Manasi's back lightly. "Roll up your sleeves. We'll have to search and contact the vendor, if the boss gives a green signal. I'll...

  Link to previous part - Previous part. Manasi glanced on the hoarding at the corner of the street that read, "A girl is not a burden...She is a beginning". She got seated in the car. The face of the that little girl was still fresh in front of her eyes. She touched the clover of the keychain. Turning on the radio, she drove off.  "Zindagi...kaisi yeh paheli haye......kabhi yeh hasaye, kabhi yeh rulaye......". "What better a song than this right now!", she thought. Her phone buzzed and she stopped the car at the roadside. "Where are you dear? Did you see what time it is? Did you get the fabric? When are you reaching?", a barrage of questions came her way, in a blaring tone. Manasi held the phone far from her ears, "Kripa, dear, give me a breather, will you? I'm on my way to the office. Will reach asap". Manasi hung up. She parked the car in the designated parking in the basement of her office building. The building was a commercial...

Link to previous part - Previous part. *************************************************************  "Yes these are my car keys. Where did you find them?", Manasi's tone became gentler as she looked at the little girl. The girl was wearing the same blue uniform, with her hair tied in two piggy tails. Her cheeks were red as she had sprinted along the footpath. Manasi kept glancing at her from head to toe. "I thought I had found a four-leaf clover so I picked it up from the road. But then I saw the keys", the girl answered, as she caught her breath. Manasi took the keys, smiling gently. "Thank you for finding them. Do you like clover leaf too?", she asked. "Yes! I have a clover bag, a clover mug and a clover pendant too", the girl said. "That's lovely", Manasi said and looked around. "Why are you alone here", Manasi was about to ask when a middle aged man came running towards them. "Princess! Why did you run so fas...

  A beautiful smile on that innocent face, took her heart away. But, something felt uneasy, inside her. Manasi clutched her belly and exhaled promptly. She looked around but the innocent face had vanished in the crowd.  Manasi raked her fingers through her hair and stood on the street, still feeling a knot in her stomach, her eyes still searching. The street had posh cafes with teenagers queuing up at the entrance. The couples were holding hands, whispering in each others ears. Inside the cafe, were groups of friends sipping coffee and laughing at silly jokes. Alongside, there were garment shops buzzing with women and young girls. Daughters insisting their moms to buy more clothes, and moms arguing with them saying their cupboards were already full. Yet, surrendering to their daughters' demands, eventually. The school across the street had ended for the day and little kids adorning blue uniforms, were rushing out of the gates with their parents. Few kids were crying, hugging t...

Writing vents all that is stagnant deep inside. Words become therapy and mind feels a certain comfort. You don't want to fight, you are weary of it. But you want to let it out, then what better a medium than writing can come to your aid! Scribble, even if it makes no sense to others. If it heals you, so be it. You don't write because there are readers, you write to feel at ease. The encumbrance just dwindles away, slowly with each word and line. From your dazed mind it just fades away, even if it stays on the paper, the effect it had is no more. It isn't as serious or hurting as it was when your heart was carrying it's burden. And it's there, to revisit and remember how calmly you fought your battles. "It's easy for a writer to say this", is this what you are thinking? I would like to differ. It's not a therapy for a writer alone. Try writing a journal or a diary. I bet you would feel the same. Once you decide to vent it out, the medium isn't p...