ki-jaana-main-kaun

Saturday, January 24, 2026

अच्छा ही हुआ

उस दिन जो तुम

रुक जाते

तो क्या

ठिठक जाता

समय?

थम जाते

समय के प्रहार?

प्रहरियों के कटाक्ष?

सूख जाती

आँसू की धार?

नहीं न?

तुमने

देहरी पार कर के

समय

परिस्थिति

और दुख

सब को

बहने की सुविधा दे दी

Saath mein

तुम मेरे लिए नहीं

मेरे कारण खुश होना

मैं तुम्हारे लिए नहीं

तुम्हारे कारण खूबसूरत हूँगी

Short Story: The Reel

“Amma… what are you doing later today?”

“The same thing that I do everyday my sweets.. sitting and waiting for you guys.”

“I am bored. Let’s do something. Should I clean the storeroom?”

Amma rolled her eyes. “You want to clean the storeroom because you are bored?”

“Avunu (yes). Summer breaks are only fun for kids. How long can you and I sit and gossip? Come na, lets either go somewhere or do something!” Pema pleaded.

“Pema, who will look after the kids if both of us go out? And they don’t want to go anywhere. Come, let’s watch some movie on Disney na. My knees don’t let me do much cleaning work now.”

“Amma, amma, it will be fun. Let me do it. You just sit there and give instructions, ok? Rangamma will help me clean. You just instruct, ok?”

Amma agreed. The storeroom, which is hardly found in houses these days (the servant room, on the other hand, is ubiquitous), was such a dear part of her house. She had no idea how this generation lived without a courtyard or a backyard or a storeroom. She and her husband had sacrificed one extra room so that they could have a backyard for the kids to play.

“But..” she thought to herself with a sigh, “Why should I judge the kids? Even our house was not made in the traditional Andhra style, no? Girish and I designed the house in a way that was modern for our times. Let the kids live their lives.”

“Great!” Pema jumped for joy and Amma returned to the present. It was rare to see the kids this happy now. Mostly, they just frowned.

Pema (not Prema) and Varun were the two kids of amma. Pema lived in Bengaluru and came to spend summers with her mother in Hyderabad. Varun lived in Hyderabad, but in the hi-tec city, the new part of town.

Summers was when the kids of both families spent a month together in amma’s house. Varun and his wife visited over the weekend, while Pema lived with her mom.

Both Varun and Pema had two children each, and the four cousins had a ball every summer.

************

Rangamma helped with the cleaning of the storeroom. After the top dusting of all the items had been done and the baskets taken out with enough giggles and memories, they reached the biggest part of the storeroom – the large trunk with the mattresses and quilts. In all old houses, this aluminum trunk was so vital that it was given as part of dowry. On top of the big trunk was another trunk – aluminum, but black, like the fauji trunks. No name though.

“Dad got that once and kept his secrets in it. I peeked, of course, from time to time. After he left, I didn’t have the heart to even open the trunk, let alone peek.” Amma sighed.

“So, should we leave it alone?” Pema wasn’t sure.

Rangamma piped in, “No, no, open no. If not now, when? Who knows what we will find inside? What if anna had a diamond stashed away for the rainy day and then we can all be rich?”

In spite of themselves, they all laughed. Pema’s dad had passed away in an accident many years ago. Amma had had to raise the kids alone, of course. But in his lifetime, he had made this huge house where Amma could host paying guests and tenants and make money while taking care of the children.

The black trunk was duly opened.

***********

Inside the trunk were the usual things that men used to cherish before man caves became a thing. Poetry that they wrote and never showed to anyone, random things bought at various times, the first paycheck, KG report cards of the children, the first bottle of perfume that amma bought for him, empty but not discarded, a small handkerchief with his initials hand embroidered by god knows who, a small copper pot that used to belong to appa’s mother, and a pair of glasses that used to belong to appa’s appa. Some other assorted stuff.

Ma touched each item with so much love. “He was such a loving man! Always, such a loving man! How he preserved his amma and appa even after they passed away. Never used to talk about them.. but here they are!”

Under all of this, bottom right side, emerged a small …roll of film! Was it new? Was it half done? Full and ready to be given to the photo studio? Why was it in his treasure chest?

“Only one way to find out!” Amma’s eyes gleamed.

“Easier said than done Amma. Where are the photo studios now? Everyone is digital.”

“Raja Deen Dayal and Sons, SP Road.” Amma said with a tone of finality.

*****

And so it was, that Pema found herself at Raja Deen Dayal and sons. A classic store tucked away from the main road such that if you didn’t know it, you would never find out.

An old man came out to meet her. “You want this reel to be developed? I am sorry beta, we don’t have machines for this anymore. We will have to send it to someone who does this by hand. Will that be ok? It will take 3-4 days.”

Pema sighed. Once upon a time, there used to be QSS – Quick Service. Those white machines converting reels to photographs in 3-4 hours, and there was this. Back to the future, as they say. To the gentleman, she simply said, “Sure, uncle. Please do that.”

****************

Four days later, Pema stepped in to collect her pictures. At home, the storeroom had been cleaned. The quilts in the big trunk had been aired and put back. The stuff from appa’s trunk had vanished somewhere in amma’s room, and she wouldn’t tell them where. Varun was due to come that evening, so Pema thought it would make for a nice viewing – appa’s last known reel and all of them together.

She picked up the packet. The uncle at the store had packed her envelope in waterproof plastic. She could not believe his kindness. Touched, she thanked him, paid, and left. She was so excited!

************

In the evening, the entire family gathered around the pictures.

One by one, they were taken out and passed around. They were all pictures of amma. Only amma. Unguarded moments. She did not know she was being clicked. And she looked so beautiful in each of them.

Amma saw each one and tried to remember where and when that had been taken. Sometimes she succeeded. Mostly, it turned into a guessing game for the family.

“Nanju’s wedding”

“No, no that one’s half sari celebration. Padma’s I think.”

“Aiyyo, no papa, that other housewarming it was.”

“This was the picnic at Gandipet.”

“No, no, clearly the holiday at Ooty. You are blind or what?”

The last image, however, was not a picture of amma. Or anything. It was a picture of a handwritten letter. In appa’s handwriting.

“If you are seeing this, my dear, you are either spying on me, or I am dead.

If you are spying on me, this is proof that there is only you. Don’t worry, and don’t listen to your stupid friends.

If I am dead, it means I never got a chance to see these pictures.

As you can see, they were taken when you were not looking. You do not know this, but you look loveliest when you don’t pose.

This is my personal reel of you. I won’t even share it with you. One day, when you grow old, maybe 75 or 80, I will give you this album as a surprise gift. Can’t wait to see your face that day! But it will be worth it!

Love

Your Giri”

*****************

As this last picture got passed around, the chatter turned to stunned silence. Within 2 minutes, there was pin-drop silence in the room.

Amma had just celebrated her 75^th birthday. Last week.

Sunday, January 18, 2026

अब मुझ में से नहीं निकलती

कविता

कढ़ाई

या मधुबनी

कूचियाँ सूख गईं

धागे उपेक्षित

कलम ने

अकेलेपन से आत्महत्या कर ली

(हम बरसी में नहीं गए )

अब मुझ से निकलते हैं

सफेद, बंजर बादल

कोयले की राख

और विफल टोटके

Thursday, January 15, 2026

An Obit to Scott Adams and Dilbert

Humour can howl what literature fears to whisper.

The founder of Dilbert - Scott Adams, is dead.

I first saw his work in the Economic Times. And LOLed.

Unlike the cartoon strips we grew up reading - Dennis, Blondie, Archie, etc., this strip had office as the setting. Like Calvin, it delivered deep truth bombs in LOL doses. The only other strip office strip was Glasbergen, but they were two different categories. Dilbert was Dilbert. Glasbergen is Glasbergen.

He made his strips free to access from his blog. If you signed up, you got the daily Dilbert for free in your inbox. I used that for quite some time.

Over the years, I have used his strips EXTENSIVELY - to voice a shared pain, to drive home a point, to teach, but mostly, to laugh with self. To see a real side of the office existence - The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Sharing some of the best Dilbert strips.

The REAL reason American companies don't last 100 years: