Author - Jui Purohit.

  She was standing there. Her forehead covered with droplets of sweat. It was a warm summer night. Hesitation in her eyes was vivid. She dabbed her forehead with her folded handkerchief, then unfolded it to wipe her neck and nape, carefully sliding her hair to one side. The delicate rose gold chain around her neck dazzled and it interrupted his gaze. He looked a little away. She stood there, indecisive. Whether a yes would mean this girl was easy? And a no, well, that wasn't even an option for her. Where would she go this late at night? It was way past the curfew at her dorm.  She looked at him. His eyes engaged with hers. His heart was pounding. He thought, "You don't need to shield yourself from me. As I want to be the one to protect you, not just today but for the entire life. I want to be the one you could lean on, always. You don't need to worry about staying with me tonight, for, I want to cherish this love and not ruin it by falling for a moment of temptation. Y...

All the non-marathi readers must be wondering what exactly the title is. It means 'Tadke wala rice', verbatim. We Indians usually don't like to waste food. We make sure the stale food that's edible is converted into something which is different from its original state or taste, to get a feeling of eating something interesting and diverse from the one we had yesterday. Well, mother's especially, have this unique ability to use and reuse everything till its last drop. And isn't it a great habit? Whether its food or clothes, there's so much of labour, effort, sweat and blood that goes into making them.  Starting from the farmer to the manufacturer, to the consumer, everyone in this chain has worked hard to create and utilise all of that. And we can't waste their efforts nor ours. Each house, I'm sure, has that piece of rag, used for cleaning, which was once an elegant garment, adorned by a person in that house. It transforms itself from ourdoor wear to ...

My maid is on leave. What? The title seems confusing? Are you saying I'm translating the phrase in a wrong manner? Absolutely not. The maids of honour are necessary to a bride for a wedding, ain't maids equally important for us ladies in our homes? You call her a house help, you call her didi, tai, maushi, bhabhi etc, etc. doesn't that mean you have some kind of relationship with her? The way you call your other relations by names, kaka, kaki or bhaiyya, maasi and so on and so forth. Why are we trying to initiate a relationship with a woman, working at our place? Why don't we call our subordinates at work, with same names? Why don't we call our bosses, uncles or aunties? Well, this house help is no doubt working for us for money, but she's making our life extremely easy. We don't have to do the tedious job of sweeping the entire house and wiping it clean. We don't have to wash our clothes or utensils daily. We don't have to carry on the laborious and...

  I love this cheese!", I announced, standing at the cheese stall, in Savona, Northern Italian region. I fell in love with cheese and the young lad fell in love with me! " Hi! I am Christopher, Christopher Colombus. I run this stall along with my father ", he said. I smiled and in a reticent tone, replied with a "Hi!".  I kept visiting his stall and there began our love story. He used to often tell me how he always wanted to travel the world. He loved exploring places. His fairy tale-ish dreams made me fall for him, even more. One day Christopher came to me and said, "I got a job as a business agent, am going to England and Ireland ". I was thrilled to know that he is travelling these far off places. I so wanted to join him on his voyage. But we decided to wait. He said he would come back and we should get married. He finished his work in England and Ireland. He came back but met me once to just tell me he's travelling again, this time it's Po...

   "Buy us Robux (currency in an online game - Roblox), mumma please, mumma please!", were the continuous chants of my sons. A teenager and a 9 year old, both of them love gaming. But the screen addiction makes me vexed. I am absolutely against playing online games and wasting childhood behind the monstrous screens. I kept ignoring their pleads. We finished dinner. Boys went to sleep in their room. And it started raining cats and dogs. Mr. Husband and me got worried, as there's always a waterlogging problem in our area. We live close to the creek, that makes it worse. Mr. Husband and me kept checking the water levels on the road, through our window. It was already 1A.M. The water levels kept rising. We shifted our important bags, some kitchen stuff and TV to our 1st floor. And eventually tired, went to sleep by 2. "Hush! It's Sunday tomorrow (already it was yet), I can get up late", I thought and switched off the alarm. When I woke up, it was already 9 A.M. ...

"Lets adopt a baby", said Harish. But Vinodini was adamant. She wanted her own baby. They had been to several gynaecologists in the town and around. But all said the same thing. There was fertility problem with Vinodini. Vinodini, an otherwise cheerful woman, was good at cooking and managing her household properly. She was a fabulous kathak dancer. She had batches full of students, learning kathak, everyday. She used to be happy to see these cute girls dance and chatter. Atleast for sometime, her house would fill with those adorable smiles. Harish was an architect. He owned the firm, 'Happy Habitation'. His clients always went back contented. They said "Koi ghar banaye to Harish bhai jaisa, ghar, sirf ghar nahi, swarga lagta hai!".  But he was unable to complete his own family and make his own Ghar -a heav en. Relatives had started discussing and making a fuss. "It's been 10 years now. What are they waiting for?"..."Arey Harish mei koi kam...

 Ravi was now a successful man, doing great in a foreign land. Fighting odds he had earned his position in this big company. He had always been a hard working man. Aisha came to his cabin, to give him a gentle reminder of today's meeting. "Don't forget the Analysis and Market trend reports, the blue and black files. The black one, yesterday in a hurry, I slid it into your fourth drawer", she said and left. "Fourth drawer?", Ravi exclaimed. He hadn't touched the drawer since then. Since he had placed 'that letter' in it. He hesitantly opened the drawer. Took out the black file. He was about to slide the drawer back, but unwillingly, his eyes fell on the letter. The letter which lay untouched, there, its creases marked  by dust. He picked up the letter, brushed away the dust. It was as it is, stamped received, unopened. To,  Ravi kumar, 3682, Taylor street, New Rochelle, New York - 10801. USA. He turned the letter, From, Mithiladevi kumar, 1st floo...