Author: Vidya Raja

And then he came along …

I was 32 years of age when all this began. I was married at the age of 26 and so far I could safely say that I was a happily married woman. My name is Seema Shah. Mine was a sort of marriage that dreams were made up of. Everyone I knew said Suhail and I  were an ideal couple, that we had great chemistry and understanding. And we did, we understood each other very well and were completely in sync with each other’s emotions. I worked very hard to ensure that we had a good marriage. My parents...

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And it all crumbled

It took me 15 years to get to the position I was at. Mrs. Vyjanti Iyer – Sales and Marketing head IHC. In these 15 years I had made a family; given birth to a boy, who was extremely smart and handsome, and had done well for myself personally. I was the proud owner of a well kept house in Boat Club Road, boasted of being a member at almost all the clubs in Chennai and was always invited to the best social do’s in the city. My husband, Dr. Shyam Iyer, was equally if not more successful. He...

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If Only……..

The most painful part of a fight was sleeping apart, on either end of the same bed. I knew if I probably turned around and inched up towards Hemant he would hold me tight. But my ego was unfortunately too big for that to happen. I had had a rough day at home and the last thing I needed was for Hemat to tell me that the house was a mess. I hated it when he returned from work and started straightening the room; it made me feel like I did not do a good job at keeping the house well. I spent all my time in maintaining the house; I was a full time home maker and was extremely proud of it. All I wanted were a few words of appreciation from my husband, for him to tell me that the house looked nice; the food I cooked tasted good; the flowers in the garden were blooming well; or even that the clothes were well ironed and stacked in his cupboard, but instead of any of this, what I got was criticism. Criticism about how the food could be a little less spicy, the flowers could be well trimmed, the house could look better kept or even that the shirts could be hung on hangers instead of being folded and kept in the cupboard. I loved Hemant too...

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Debauchery

5:25 pm……. 5:27 pm……..5:45 pm….. 5:53 pm…….5:58 pm….. I had looked at the watch more than a hundred times in the last half an hour. I couldn’t wait for 6:30 pm; I had to get out of the office. Had to be somewhere by 7:00pm. I got up and went into the lady’s room, washed my face, and stared into the mirror. I was pretty and I knew it. I adjusted my kurti and re-did my hair. Looked at myself again in the mirror and walked out of the lady’s room. I got back to my desk and sank into my seat in the hope that no one finds me to dump work on my table. I just had to leave at 6:30 pm. It would be another twenty minutes to that. I waited, checked my e-mail, posted a few messages on facebook, and looked at the watch again. Now it would be another eight minutes before I could leave. I would need five minutes to get the car out and then depending on the traffic would need another thirty minutes to get there. I had waited enough, the minute the watch showed 6:30 pm; I got up and walked straight towards the door. I had a smile on my face, didn’t bother saying bye to anyone, lest they delay me by talking. I got into the lift and...

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SodaBottleOpenerWala – A Vegetarian’s Verdict

Having spent a good five years in Pune, Iranian cafes were a part and parcel of those glorious years. I say glorious because those were the college years, spent without much or any worry, of sitting idly in cafes thinking of what the future holds, of having little, or sometimes no money, and hence sharing that chai and bun maska. It has been a while since I graduated, left Pune and that life behind. Walking past ‘SodaBottleOpenerWala’ in Cyber Hub brought back so many memories.   Most old time Parsi households I have been to exude nostalgia. Their decor,...

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