Dheeraj Kalgutkar

Photo by Nick Karvounis on Unsplash   The perennial excuse of our maid after taking an unannounced holiday which has become ever so often now is that she did come in the morning and rang our doorbell but we did not open the door for her. For long both of us who stay in the house have believed this excuse. Not because she did and we did not. Simply because we thought of letting it pass, giving her the benefit of doubt. There have been days like today when my friend was up since 5 AM due to some exam of his and know for sure that there was no doorbell ringing, but over the months he too has learnt the art of letting it go. “Aunty plays with us” is our constant topic of conversation. And in this game of her, she has been winning all this while. She didn’t come today morning too. And naturally, we had our usual “Arey yaar, ye aunty aaj bhi nahi aayi (Oh man, this maid didn’t even come today)” conversation and went out to have breakfast. On our way back in the dark parkin...

Mehmud walked and walked and walked with a bag hanging by his shoulder; a bag made of clothes and plastic threads, covered in dirt and also torn here and there. He had forgotten the distance he had walked so far. He had forgotten the lanes he had taken. He was on a mission today. He had to collect enough valuable trash that would fetch him hundred odd rupees for the day. On an average day he would make 60 to 70 rupees which would be enough for his sustenance but today he had set his target, a full sum of a hundred rupees. Sunday of coming week was a special day for him. It was his mother’s birthday which he celebrated with all smiles and clean clothes. Clean clothes was a luxury that he couldn’t afford every day. It was one of the many things that was out of reach for people living in his jhuggi . The long tenuous day that involved mostly walking in sun from one trash pit or smelly mountain to another would suck most of his energy leaving him with no time to take care of his clot...

Photo by Artem Bali on Unsplash I forgot my red water bottle. Wait, what? You want us to read about you losing your water bottle? No, no, not any bottle but red water bottle with white cap. It’s no ordinary bottle. It’s the one that I take with me to the gym. The one in which I fill water from a water purifier attached there with those weird beads in that machine. I have a theory that that machine just doesn’t work and I’ve been drinking tap water for long now. Thanks to placebo for not letting me fall sick. Anyway, coming back to my water bottle. I remember taking it to the gym, drinking water from it. Sweating working my legs out. Oh yes, it was a leg day. But don’t worry. Somehow for some reasons that I’m unaware of, my legs aren’t hurting today. It’s 11:30PM, full 3 hours since I reached my room and found out, actually, I did not, I have not been able to find my bottle. The red one with the white cap. I had to drink water from another stupid bottle from which my flatmate u...

That’s just a random picture of crowded Delhi. Photo by Fancycrave on  Unsplash         Bus rides are joyful experiences. To travel peacefully on a window seat staring quietly at the passerby's, looking at people on bikes and cars hurrying themselves to reach someplace quicker, buildings by buildings of varying sizes passing like a film via the window glass. And then if you are lucky you meet a nice fellow passenger, you both talk and somehow in its own small and strange ways, you become part of someone’s life who was stranger a while ago. Aha. That is if you are lucky. But I was with no luck in my pockets. I did not get a fellow passenger to talk to. I did not even get a seat to sit forget the window one. I was standing in a crowded bus near the back door of this public transport vehicle with my travel bag. Not big but not too small either. The bus had moved few stops from where I had boarded and had just stopped at another stop. Of the many people who...

Okay. I promise I will make this quick and short. A few days back, while getting on to my train, I hugged someone rather in a strange situation. I got the hug which I needed but I couldn’t really hug back how I wanted it to be keeping in mind the slowly starting train and also a dozen eyes ever pricking on our embrace. Also, there was this whisper in my ear, “When will you reach?” 6 in the morning, I quickly replied. And got back on the train. There was so much that happened on the train which I least expected but will save it for another day. This is just about one part of a long tedious trip. Mid-way through the journey, somewhere past the midnight I opened my cell phone to check if I had the network. Luckily there was. I quickly browsed my way back to the train info page to check where my train exactly was. Hey! the night is dark and full of terrors… I had no idea where I had reached! And to my surprise, my train was moving fast...

One not so fine day when I was in the hospital taking care of someone dear to my heart, I happened to meet two cats. Actually, there were four of them if my math is right and those bitches didn’t trick me. Okay. Wait. Before I start, let me pause and ask you something important. What is your opinion about cats? I mean, do you view them as just another creature with four legs that man happened to domesticate (?) or are you one of them who believes otherwise. Let me make a full disclosure here. I am one of those many people residing on this planet who know the unknown that cats are some mysterious beings here for some mysterious purpose (read ulterior motive !). Humans for ages have been tricked into believing they are taking care of or are using cats as domestic pets. You think I’m kidding, don’t you? Well, I’m fucking serious. Okay. If you don’t believe me, answer this one question. Why do we have those bitches at our home? Dogs guard our houses, those poor creatures have...

It not only takes your right to question the second occurrence but also opens a cycle that is hard to break.   First things are always the first. How lame a sentence, isn’t it? But seriously; Good, bad or ugly, firsts set the precedent and it’s always important to make note of them. When an error, a mistake, a crime, an event where norm or law is broken for the first time, it is important to stop and question it then and there. However small or insignificant it may seem at first, it needs to be called out for what it is. A mistake. You don’t ignore it because it doesn’t matter and not affect your flow of work. It might not affect you now but believe me it will come to haunt you tomorrow and then you will have nothing to do about it except to regret. That’s exactly what I did last week when I went home.  I had marriage of a family member to attend to at one side of Goa, a small Indian state famous for its pristine beaches, old churches and Portuguese era ar...

Our society and brain has a thing where it makes you think you are in love when you are not. It forces you into finding that person, to fall in love, propose because that’s what ‘all’ do at this age. You may be comfortable and enjoy someone’s company but partner? That’s whole different stuff. Love doesn’t need to occur to you just because it occurred to your friend. Here’s one such story. Read to know as they narrate their tale. SHE It all began in the college. Wait, not college but in school itself. Yes, it’s that old. I don’t remember who started it first. Given the fact that I was kind of recluse and shy back in those days (and still I’m. Don’t I?), we can safely say it was him. He was from a rich family, so was I. He was flamboyant, I was no less. I don’t know about perfect match but we were quite of a character back in the days. Our other classmates used to envy our households — born with a silver spoon if you may. It was certain for both of us to...

The bus conductors across India have problem of their own, from chewing pan to indecent language to not-so-warm behavior. But this one was not so cut-out for that definition. Most of my traveling across the stretch of India which I have stayed and moved has been by bus, mostly public and sometimes private. Rarely on train and more scarcely by flight. Most of Indians will relate to this except for those staying in Mumbai for them bus can be replaced with local train! And this is where I have met people from different hues of life, old, young and those not-at-all charming end-of-the-world-loud babies. It’s great experience where you throw yourself to unexpectedness. But there’s one person you have interacted regularly while traveling by bus, ticket collector or bus conductor. Recently, few women have started to apply for the job of conductor and take up the challenging work which otherwise is a man’s world to move from one side of the (most of the times) crowded bus to other si...