Appy Stories

 The weather was misty wearing a veil to shroud the morning's beauty. The sun was still under the blankets of foamy clouds. Kallu lay coiled up under the huge banyan tree which had spread its giant boughs in the blue expanse of the sky. The winter had frozen his blood and he waited for her warm touch to thaw his shuddering bones. I drank his blood happily as he didn't have the nerve to move even to scratch his brown fur. My breakfast was lavish today. In one of the chocolate dark folds of his skin, I feasted at the expense of my host. She was late today. Maybe, the wintery mornings were holding her back from bringing Kallu's breakfast. Every morning she dawned with a pet pug by one arm. It was a royal parade, the pug flaunting her.  She would stop to feed Kallu, the stray mongrel, some biscuits and cool water. She would kneel down next to him and with gloved hands scratch him. Kallu in response would wag his tail and grunt in satisfaction. The biscuits, the touch, the lady ...

I was born by mistake. A product of failure of contraceptive trudged along life. Failure is my second name and on my face has a permanent address. I encounter failure at every junction like the Pandu waiting to get 100-200 out of your drought struck wallet. Journalist for namesake in a career of ten years no sansani or tehelka to my credit. Five boyfriends but none has walked upto the altar. Here again I'm in the wrong lane. Stuck in the chaotic lanes of Mumbai. Oh, sorry a mistake again. This is a highway. Tap Tap.. An intruder to my musings. 'Allah ke naam pe de de Mai! Bhagwan bhala karega!'  How can Bhagwan issue the receipt for bill paid in Allah's name? But I dare not ask the offender taping incessantly on my Nano's glass plane. Despite, shooing off this poorly clad, determined gentleman, he keeps approaching me again and again. Can someone please explicitly explain to him that Nano owners are poverty struck in an occult way. Who drives a car where only the dr...