October Read Meet In Khar

Some read from their laptops,
some from their android phone 
Some recite from their memory 

while some from their written notes, 

but the stories that they share are 

their original work 

written with great care

When the read meets are on Saturday and the venue is closer to my house, there is no reason to give it a miss. This was #22 readmeet and the theme was interesting too. Writer friends brought their naughty work because that was the theme…’Inverse Bowdlerisation’…inserting naughty bits to the respectable ones without altering the real script. They said ‘it was not easy’ but they did it well. Their work was so good that it was difficult to differentiate the original from parody. 

I did not write on the theme, because I was not sure what I was expected to write. I took my story that I had written during #CelebrateBlogging organized by Blogadda. We had to create a story with our team members. There were 30 teams who had participated in this event and our team had reached 12th position. I read the part that I had written during the event.

Here is what I read:

Immaculately dressed, Cyrus made an impressive presence, as he moved with authority in the crowd, his smile plastered perpetually on his face, and a drink goblet held loosely in his hand. He had lots to celebrate, as ‘Play Deo’ his ad company, was the new talk of the town. It took over the turntables and was enjoying the success.

The celebrations kicked off in full swing when the bare chested Bollywood star Akhay Khan made his appearance on the stage gyrating his pelvic on the hottest electronic music tracks.  Rhythm of oohs and aahs blared from loud speakers. Akhay Khan was spinning, his wet skin shining under blinking colored lights. The Olive bar’s stunning cocktail beauties showed up next to Cyrus and presented him with two glorious gold plaques for his achievements.

Flashing his gold tooth smile, Cyrus held his plaque up high for his guests to see while everybody raised a toast and gold confetti shot up in the air.

Cyrus kept the party going all night, spinning all the way until the early morning.  Throughout the evening, heels clacked against hardtop dance floor as dancers gradually overcame their shyness.

Tara was exhausted. She had not wanted to participate in Cyrus’s achievement. But the world was watching and her absence would be felt in the Ad world. Although they worked together and created terrific ideas for their clients, she hated his insensitive personal comments.  Lately she had been deeply offended when Cyrus had asked her if she suffered from the disease called Munchausen syndrome by proxy or MSBP. She didn’t know what he meant but she had felt hurt that he had mentioned it. Somebody has been gossiping for sure, but who??

MSBP was the behavior pattern that she had grown up seeing her mother suffer from it. Her mother would systematically fabricate or exaggerate the symptoms, and even once induced her with wrong medications when she was unwell. Her dad had explained, telling her that people who suffered from MSBP were willing to fulfill their need for positive attention by hurting even their own child and then appearing to care and save their so-called sick child.

Münchausen syndrome by proxy

The words played in loops in her mind. A hundred times. Revolving round and round till her head began to spin. No, it cannot be true, she held the most responsible post in an ad company, she could handle the most difficult situations. How could she bring harm to anybody? Bring harm to her own child. Never.

“Maybe I should pick up Roohi from school today” she said under her breath as she removed the mobile from her purse and started to dial.

“Hello Shekhar” she whispered into the phone, her fingers pressing hard against her left temple, “I will pick up Roohi from school today.”

“Are you okay?” said Shekhar, shifting uncomfortably in his wheel chair. “Come home directly, she will come by school bus, like she always does.” There was a ring of concern over his voice.

“No, I am fine.” She said. Her mind drifted towards her 9 years old daughter. A flash of pleasure swept over her.

Spending time with Roohi always changed her moods. In worst of situations, a happy chatter and her bright smile lifted her spirit; she needed that at this moment the most. She could come later to work and maybe work late nights, but right now she needed to go someplace with her daughter.

She flung her handbag over her shoulders, plucked the keys from the key stand and emerged from her cabin.

“I will be back soon.” She said to no one in particular as she strode at an easy pace towards the parking lot.

She revved up the engine; it rumbled, gave a soft jerk and then began to move.

She had had the presence of mind to call the mechanic and get her car repaired. It was just a spark plug issue and it was resolved in no time. 

Roohi had just emerged from her school gates, when she recognized her mother’s car parked behind her school bus, hazard lights blinking, and car position a bit skewed. She looked closely. A wave of happiness enveloped her when she saw her mother standing next to the car. She blinked, turned swiftly, her gaze not leaving her mother, her shoes grinding against the sandy ground, with her both arms swinging in air, her school bag thumping against her back, she walked swiftly, reached Tara and circled her arms around her mother’s waist.

“Mamma! So nice to see you. Ooh! I cannot believe it. What a pleasant surprise!”

“Yes, my pretty Rooh. Today, I decided to spend some time with my baby” Tara bend down to kiss her daughters forehead.

“Really? Are we going someplace?” Roohi walked towards the other side, threw her school bag at the back seat of the car, opened the front door and plopped herself in the front seat.

“We are going home, baby!” said Tara, as she put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. 

“No, no, Mamma please, I don’t want to go home, can we stop for an ice-cream, please?” said Roohi, her voice lingering on the word ‘please’ and her eyes rolling in excitement.

“Hmmn, only ice cream then, okay?” said Tara, her eyes focused on the busy road ahead.

Tara parked her car outside an ice-cream parlor, hand-in-hand, Roohi and Tara walked inside.

With an interior design that looks more like a clothes shop than an exclusive ice cream parlor, this place had more than fifty flavors of ice cream, some of them truly amazing. In winter they also served chocolate delicacies and pastries.

Roohi chose the combination of vanilla and strawberry ice cream, topped with small chunks of chopped strawberries, two tiny kiwi rings, black grapes and broken pieces of walnuts and pine nuts.


While wolfing down her ice cream Roohi looked up and asked:

“You and daddy don’t go out nowadays, do you feel sad?

“Yes, sometimes, but he will be fine.”

“Will he ever walk again?”

“Yes, baby, he will.”

“You know, mamma, daddy is always on skype.”

“He is working no?”

“But he spend so much time talking to uncle Sunil on Skype.”

“Oh, they talk business.” Said Tara, wondering if Sunil was a new friend that Shekhar had found on the net. She would ask him later she decided.

“But I don’t like him.”

“You don’t have to talk to him.”

“I don’t want to talk but daddy asked me to.”

“Just say ‘hello’ and go back to your room.”

“He said he might come to Mumbai and stay in our house.”

“Don’t worry, he must have just said so, daddy friends always stay in hotel. No?”

“Mamma, he said he might come home.”

“Okay finish your ice-cream, I will drop you home then go back to work.”

“You will go back to work?”

“Yes, baby, Mamma has work to do.”

“Please, stay at home today, please, please.”

“Okay, lets go home first then we will decide.”

They drove home with Roohi chatting all the way, telling her stories about her school, friends, teachers, food, games…

Tara was already in good spirit when they entered their building compound. She inserted her house key into her main door and walked in.

She could hear soft murmurs coming from her room.

“Go to your room and change your school uniform Rooh, I will just be back” she said, nudging Roohi's shoulders to steer her towards the other room.




She decided to surprise Shekhar

She walked into her room. Shekhar was in the front of the screen, his back towards the door, deep in conversation. A shock wave travelled from her foot to her heart, as she focused her eyes to look at the face in the screen. She shivered, her nerves pulsating against her temples.

“What-the-hell!” she screamed as she clutched the mouse to switch off the Skype call.

Shekhar turned and looked at Tara in surprise. 

“You know him?” Asked Shekhar

“Yes, he is Cyrus’s brother.”

“Wait a minute, how well do you know Sunil? Have you been gossiping about me??” 

Read meets are always interesting, and every meeting I attend, I always learn something new. An evening well spent

100 Happy Days: Day 44 Read Meet.

Happiness is sharing your writings with friends.

I am an active member of 'Caferati read meet'. We meet every month and share our prose/poems with friends. Every month, there is a theme to trigger our writing. A positive feedback is given which helps us improve our writings. Read meets have helped me a lot and these are much better than attending an organized workshops.

This week, we met at our friend’s place at Versova. The theme was ‘epistolary’. I have never before attempted this format. I googled to read various writings on this format and then attempted one story. I wrote the story in the series of letters written over one year. I have posted my story ‘Postcard From Spain’ on my blog. 

Do visit to read my story, you will love it.  

One friend wrote the story in a telephone conversation format, other had email snippets and then there was a story in series of telegram messages, I never knew that story could be told in this format too. It was interesting to listen at different perspective to a common theme.

Well, everyday is a learning experience, and so much joy in exploring new themes.

So here I am, with the project of ‘100 Happy Days’I am posting pictures each day here on my blog then sharing the link on my page on FB too. You can enjoy my work either here or on my page at FB at Pushee’s World

Caferati Read-Meet (23rd May 09) at Belapur

There were no Samosas this time, but still I enjoyed the read-meet like I always do, but then, who says that we go to eat Samosas?…it is read-meet, right? So, you are supposed to meet and read.. get it? Also, when somebody is reading in this group, then, you are supposed to listen carefully, and not allow your mind to wander away, looking around, admiring the paintings on the walls, or clicking pictures because, at the end of each read, you are expected to give a feedback. (think! think! did you like it? what did you like? what doesn't work for you?) everybody is expected to participate(Imagine, if ever body gave the feedback then who would be the just listener? not allowed huh?) Now, giving feedback is such a pain...Grrrhh! (array baba, giving feedback is also an art na, that has to be developed,) you need a loud voice and confidence to speak your mind and, and, of course, you need to have editorial qualities to comment on some body’s else’s work without getting punched back on your face….. (I am afraid if they say, "you think you know better than me? huh? How dare you strip my work!") Okay. Okay, I will need to work on giving feedback too….But I just need time….Actually, I am not used to making personal comments unless I am asked to (I think people are noticing that I hardly ever comment at the read-meet and that, I am told is ‘not fair’, to get a feedback, we must learn to give it first....point noted... :) Anyways, this month, the read meet was organized at Menka’s beautiful garden behind her house, in the interiors of Belapur, way far from city of Mumbai. We sat under bougainvillea trees, to the back ground music of water fall, so close to nature, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of flowers. While we waited for the members to arrive, we had a small informal chat. We were discussing about the demography of the people of Mumbai verses people of Delhi and their behavior pattern, their habit of staring too much, their ability to cheat and lie and finally, we arrived at a conclusion that 'Delhi sucks'…… (sorry) Next, a formal read meet started with a small round of introduction, disclosing our ID and our nature of writings. And then the readings of fiction and poetry began. There were a long discussions after each reading, on points that were important for good writing, such as, making the fiction work more expressive, to show and not to tell, to chop off all the unnecessary details that are not important to te story, and to create a drama in order to get the attention of the reader/listener. There was much discussion on the usage of words such as editorial/reportage While editorial can be bias and can be just an opinion, reportage are pure facts and are written in formal accounts with correct details. For example: A RICH Man wanted to tell a certain lie, but the lie was of such monstrous size that it stuck in his throat; so he employed an Editor to write it out and publish it in his paper as an editorial. Policeman, on the other hand, will give the proper details to a reporter. Since the group was small, (only twelve people attended this month’s read meet). It ended early. Then came the best part…chow chow..peet puja…(I was hungry too) .there were (vegetarian and non vegetarian,) puff pastries, wafers and cake. The meeting lasted for over two hours and the group dispersed by 6:30pm. I was lucky, I got a lift back home, thanks to Menka, who had meeting to attend at Hotel Marriot and she would drive through my route (passing through Bandra)… I feel blessed, travelling in style…back home.

March Read Meet under Open Skies.

One more lovely evening, I attended with my Caferati folks, this time in South Mumbai, Kemps Corner, to be exact. The theme this month was on sharing notes on the workshops that we had attended during Kala Ghoda Festival in February 2008. I was surprised by the number of people who were anxious to attend. The members at the read-meets were dwindling lately, sometimes as low as five members, but this read-meet was choc-a-bloc. Writers were waiting for some other members to drop out, so that, they could be accommodated. Was it because there were notes to be shared or was it because it was at a convenient location? Whatever, I think people always need a reason to attend, especially if they are not a regular. And, members who attended were not disappointed. Who would? A read meet on a terrace, facing the sea, a generous crowd, who is willing to share their knowledge with people, some of those, whom they are meeting for the first time, a perfect hostess, Kareena Merchant, who made everybody comfortable with her warm chats and tasty chaats and a meticulous organizer, Suniti Joshi, who did lot of leg work alone and yet, so precisely perfect. Hats off to Suniti, who always takes extra effort and time and responds to every member patiently! I was lucky this time to find two friends, who were willing to share a taxi with me and we reached at the venue on the dot of 5pm. After warm up and the introduction of 27 members in Kareena’s house, we went upstairs to the terrace to bathe in the sunshine amidst the cool winds of the open seas. The meeting continued with poem read by Jaya Bhandari, a fiction by Soma Sarkar and a descriptive poem by John. So engrossed was I in their readings, that I forgot to watch the sun-set. (Actually I was sitting in a wrong direction, facing the tall buildings and a cliff of the ‘Hanging Gardens’), But I saw a black bird, resting up there, on a TV antenna, who wanted an audience too, but his verses swayed in the breeze. A short break after the readings was not very short because the snacks were too tasty. It takes time to eat Sev Puri, sandwiches, batatwadas and walnut cake and drown it with a cup of tea/coffee. Second session started with Suniti sharing her ‘Performance Poetry’, Ramesh on ‘Writing for Children’, Samarth on ‘Screen Writing’ Archana on ‘Pastoral Poetry and Kareena on “Freelancing’. I was aware of the time limit of the read meet, and I wanted to hear about other’s experience (and not waste my time, hearing myself speak,) therefore I had prepared notes (Xeroxed it 15 times) on the points that were discussed during the workshop on ‘Getting Published’ and I was happy to distribute it to those, who were interested. I am glad I did that, because the meeting had extended for too long, (9:30pm) and it was getting very late to reach back home. Some of the busy members had to rush off half way to attend to their other commitments, and I was glad that I was able to share my notes with them too.

'Caferati' August Read-meet

I am learning to be a good writer and I am member of various networks on Ryze, which help me to grow as a writer. I write, people react, I improve my skills and I am encouraged to write more. There are many networks online and many of them interact personally too by meeting off line, enjoying the evening of fun and feast. Every month, ‘Caferati-online writer’s network’, have read-meets where we meet off line and see the actual expressions of the group members while we read our piece. It is fun, watching the expression of the dazed crowd, especially if you are reading a bold stuff, which the group members are not sure, whether it is the fiction or a real life experience. On the net, when we write, we sometimes forget, or don’t care that there are many people reading and making their own impression, but at the actual read-meet, it is a different story. We, as a reader, are conscious, of all those people listening and staring at us, watching our gestures, our clothes, and our hair, although all those members, who are present may not even be listening to us hundred percent. Some may be admiring the style of our dress, others enjoying the whiff of sweet perfume, some of them might be wondering whether we shaved our legs before coming, and some might be wondering about our private life and making their own assumption on our pattern of living. Then there will be some who might be thinking when they will eat their Samosas and Sandwiches, wondering whether they could get up, out of turn, and help themselves with the cup of coffee or visit a rest room. The point is that nobody might be actually hearing us hundred percent. So, when we finish our long story and expect an applause, (sometimes we assume, our piece is the masterpiece) we might get to see a group of rolling eyes. We, then grin, rub our palms, raise our eye brows, and look around trying to settle our gaze on one particular person, whom we feel must have listened to our masterpiece ninety-nine percent. The feed-back takes a front seat and we get what we deserve. Live performance and feedback is always intoxicating. Thus, read-meets of Caferati are fun and this month was no different. This month we had at one of the member’s private, cozy home, with books and artifacts lining the walls, high up on the 16th floor of Sainara apartment at Cuff Parade, overlooking the fishermen colony and a beautiful sunset above the calm sea. A friend who had promised to accompany me for the read-meet could not make it and she had to drop out the last minute. I decided to go alone, but I hate making solo entrance. I looked around, as I reached the lobby, hoping I would find one member to accompany me for the entrance into the group and I was lucky to meet one person at the lift. We got to introduction, she was a first-timer, I was consoling her that she need not be afraid or nervous, that she will have a great time, I gave her some back ground knowledge about the group and then asked her to make the entrance with me so that we look like great pals. Surprises! Surprise! Surprise! She was a reporter from a reputed paper! I had already given her my interview in the lift! The read-meet started with a group photograph of famous writers by professional photographer and a formal detailed introduction (glad that we could get free publicity at last!). The reporter encouraged us to boast about our work, which I shamelessly did. (I love freebees)I hope she writes about my books! I need sales! The rest of the read-meet was just reading, commenting, snacking, listening to the sparkling conversations of vibrant group, romancing the ambience and sometimes smiling forcefully at those who won’t match my smile with theirs. Later, after the meeting, smaller group were contemplating the idea of dining to gather in some restuarant. I decided to join in too without any fuss. “Let’s go here” “No!” “Yes!” “Let’s go there” “Let’s take a taxi” “Let’s walk” "It is getting late na" “Never mind, forget the dinner, and let’s go home.” Phew! I was hungry! I was lucky to get a lift back home in a luxurious car, offered to me by one of the members (Lord bless her kind heart!) Thank God we can order food from the comfort of our homes! Viva Mumbai! Hail Mumbai! The memories of the read-meet lingered on as I chewed on roasted chicken and French fries.