EX: a twisted love story. (OCTOBER '13)

What will you do if one day a svelte and sexy girl comes up to you and says she is your ex ? And the only thing you know about her is that you don’t know anything about her. Neel, an aspiring author, meets Nivrita at the Jaipur Literary Festival. Though Nivrita says she is his ex, he remembers nothing and yet everything about her seems to lure him to unravel the mystery she personifies. The more he is drawn to her, the more Neel feels guilty because he is already in a steady relationship with Titiksha, the love of his life. When Nivrita makes a tempting offer to Neel, which he accepts for his own good, his life slowly begins to spiral out of control while Titiksha starts turning into a stranger until Neel realizes there’s much more than his eyes can see and mind can recollect.

Novoneel Chakraborty, bestselling author of A Thing Beyond Forever, That Kiss In the Rain and How About a Sin Tonight? brings forth yet another poignant story, twisted in essence. EX will make you drop your jaws wide open. You can order your copy here: http://bit.ly/1bvQXzv

Food Poisoning

An acquaintance and I had gone to a temple where we were served the prasad in a small plastic packet. I ate it immediately while he kept it inside his pocket.
"You should eat it now." I said.
"I won't. I'll throw it once I'm out of here." He said.
I was shocked. "If you don't believe in God then why are you here?"
"I do believe in God," he said,  "But last year after I had prasad from one of the temples I suffered from food poisoning. I spent a whole fortnight in a hospital."
"But its not the same temple, is it?" I quipped.
He nodded. We together moved out of the temple.

I was amazed how one single incidence of 'food poisoning' at one particular temple had made him doubt the prasad of every other temple.

*

If That's Not Love

Last Sunday when I went to meet a friend at his flat I was pleasantly surprised. The last time I was at his flat its interior gave messiness a new definition. But this time was different. The flat looked all neat and clean with things kept at proper places and also the overall space was utilized with such dexterity that it changed the complete outlook of the flat. Of course, the last time I visited my friend he was still a bachelor. Now he was married.

I wondered it was basically the same flat with the same dimensions, same furniture and other stuff but with someone else's arrangement of it, the flat turned beautiful. I think all of us have the potential of being beautiful in the true sense of the word at any point of time in our life. Just that sometimes someone needs to simply arrange our messy-within in order to make us look and feel beautiful. And if that's not love, nothing is.

*

Handwriting

I was there at a cousin's place recently. While he was out with his wife I was baby-sitting his seven year old son. He was doing his homework as I was watching an IPL 20-20 cricket match on television. Once done, he showed his homework to me. It was a three page long essay on 'my aim in life'.

"What's this?" I said the moment I flipped the third page. The kid was clueless.
"Its like three different people have written this essay." I continued. "Your handwriting is different in each page."
The kid giggled next and said, "I get bored holding my pen the same way for long."

I kept looking at him and thought: our handwriting depends so much on the way we hold our pen.

*

The Conveyor Belt

I step down from the airline bus at the entrance of the arrival section of the airport. I immediately rush towards the conveyor belt where my luggage is supposed to come by. Within seconds the conveyor belt starts moving, bringing forth different luggage. Soon I relax noticing my bag smoothly coming towards me. I shall pick it up in the next few seconds, I wonder, and then I’ll hail a prepaid cab, reach home on time, have a warm shower, chill, have dinner, surf the internet, complete the book I started reading in the flight and probably sleep early! The mere glimpse of the bag has made me design a particular future for myself.

I also take pride noticing how few of my co-passengers are admiring my bag. Why wouldn’t they? It’s a brand new bag and the design too is quite unique. I remember the storekeeper told me it’s a limited edition too. In less than few seconds the people around will also know whom it belongs to.

As my bag takes a turn and comes further close to me, I’m just waiting to put my hands on it. It belongs to me and it forever shall.  The next moment I see a hand, out of nowhere, pick the bag up. I’m too shocked to say a word. By the time I get my voice back and shout out the person seems to have disappeared. I scamper towards his direction but I haven’t seen his face. I ask someone if he has seen the person. He nods no. Damn! I would now have to complain and probably wait for hours for the airline people to respond to it. I will have to verbally fight, be irritated in the process and still there's no guarantee I'll get my bag back or not. All in all the well-thought-of relaxed evening is non-existent now. Moreover there are some valuable things in the bag. How will I be able to live without them? They meant so much to me. I slowly sit down on a nearby chair; feeling defeated. 

Minutes pass by.

“Is this your bag sir? No one else claimed it.” An airline staff says holding a replica of my bag. I take the bag from him and try to unlock it in order to confirm. I am able to unlock its number-lock. I smile holding my bag tight. Its silly how I emotionally accepted something which only seemed mine but it wasn’t. How conveniently I created my own emotional truth and wove an eluding futuristic world for myself which when I didn’t get disappointed me to the hilt. But the simple thing was it wasn’t meant for me. It wasn’t mine! I only thought it was.      

Some things only look like they belong to us. And we immediately convince ourselves they are meant for us as well. That difference costs us a lot of things.

*

The Cast:

The ‘I’ in the story is Anyone.

The Conveyor Belt is Life.

The First Bag is ‘the one you are sure is yours’.

The Second Bag is ‘the one meant for you’.

Special Appearance: The Person who takes the first bag is ‘Destiny’.

*

Even If

As I entered a friend’s apartment campus, the other day, so did a girl from another end of the gate. She carried an unavoidable pleasantness with her. We walked almost together till we reached the ground floor. I pressed the elevator button while she waited. In between we shared a faint smile. The kind strangers share when their eyes suddenly meet. When the elevator arrived I let her enter first. She thanked me with a warm smile. It made my heart feel younger by a life. Only the two of us were inside as the elevator door closed. She pressed the eleventh floor button and glanced at me expectantly. I leaned forward and pressed the same button hinting I too was going to the same floor. Could she be one of my friend’s friend he mentioned was coming? My phone buzzed with a Whatsapp message.

‘Where are you?’ It was my friend. While replying him I heard the girl speak on her phone.

“Almost there.”

Finally the elevator door opened. I let her exit first. The warm smile appeared again but also accompanying it was a certain twinkle in her eyes. She went and stood in front of my friend’s flat. I rejoiced in my mind. I stood behind her and pressed the calling bell. She turned to me but before I could read her face she got a call.

“Standing right outside.” She said.

A second later my friend opened the door. And then another door opened to the right. The girl looked surprised. It was obvious she had goofed up the flat number. As she disappeared inside the other flat without caring to turn back even once I realized one should always be aware of the fact that even if two people get to the same ‘floor’ together doesn't mean they are heading towards the same ‘flat’.

*