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Sketchstory No. 36 - 'Bondage…. or bonding?' by Sandhya Srinivasan

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Kalpana couldn’t stop smiling as she came out of her bathroom after a shower. The chain with the mangalsutra hung heavy around her neck and for someone who disliked jewellery, this was not a very welcome addition, but she wouldn’t complain. Traditionally, in Tamil Nadu, the bride wore two mangalsutras (thalis) on one heavy chain – one from the bride’s side and one from the bridegroom’s side. But like many other things about this marriage, the mangalsutra was going to be different for Kalpana. Prakash and she had been childhood friends and neighbours. It was almost like it was ordained that at some point, their friendship would become something special and culminate in this marriage. The priest had already been informed earlier that there would be no traditional kanyadaan as she was not going to be given away by anybody, to anybody. The priest, who had conducted several inter-caste and inter-religious wedding ceremonies, had been understanding, but yesterday’s incident at the weddin

Sketchstory No. 37 - 'Darling...I'm Sorry' by Anuradha Bhattacharya

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I was my parent’s only child. My mother was a school teacher of a very prestigious school of Kolkata and she got my admission done in the same school. Right from the childhood, I was very fascinated by my mother’s designation in the school. She was a simple class teacher in the beginning but it used to give me tremendous pleasure to see her around me in the school. When she got promoted to the post of teacher in charge, I felt so proud to stand up with the other children in the school and wish her Good Morning. I used to feel an important person when the other children of the school used to come and befriend me and asked me “are you Usha Aunty”s daughter?” By the way my mother was known in the name of Usha aunty.  My mother was very very conscious about her daughter’s discipline in school and her constant vigilance always stopped me in crossing the limits of indiscipline. Though her presence gave me opportunities to enjoy lots of facilities unlike other students but my freedom to s

Sketchstory No. 36 - 'When it is time, it is time' by Usha Iyer

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                                     Today I take this.off. What I have worn always the last 18+ years means nothing today. What it really meant is questionable anyway! But for me there were sentiments. Till sometime back. It is like slow death… when a relationship dies. First there is a sense of disease. Then denial. Then the symptoms show up again. This time they are hidden. Under laughter and fake smiles, with time chugging along and birthdays and festivals, new clothes and gifts. Then you can’t hide it anymore. You don’t even want to, actually. Gifts are given and received and mathematics is done more carefully than ever. Because the heart has gone out anyway. And we are going through the motions, by force of habit, believing we are giving the kids some childhood memories. But with the heart absent, even those are just like the family pictures. Complete, but missing so much. There’s a story Ma would tell us of her Chitti, who was a super wit. When, after a huge fight, her husband a

Sketchstory No. 36 - 'The New Bride' by Jaya Venkateswaran

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She came out of the bath draping a towel around her, suddenly conscious of the heavy chain, her mangalsutra, dangling from her neck. Everything had changed overnight including her marital status. It had all happened very fast, the bride seeing, the engagement and then the wedding within just a span of three months. Much against her father’s advice, she had told her (then prospective) husband, in private, during bride-seeing, that she was NOT willing to WORK and would like to happily manage the household. He had also been supportive and left the decision to her. She had seen her mother toiling at home and at school as a teacher. She herself had worked in an MNC till recently, but knew she wouldn’t enjoy it with all the stress involved. Now it was all going to be different, completely different. Apart from being a loving wife and a responsible daughter-in-law, she was also looking forward to fulfilling all her dreams and her passion for art, nurtured for so long.. Wearing a b

Story to Sketch - 'Aakhir Kyun?' by Kalyani Shivmani

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नारी-मन को 'रहस्यों का पिटारा' कहा जाए तो कोई अतिशयोक्ति नहीं होगी । प्रत्येक नारी अपने मन में न जाने कितने रहस्यों का भार लिए घूमती रहती है । उस दिन के.जी विभाग से गुज़रते हुए कक्षा में एक नया चेहरा दिखा । हंसमुख चेहरा, लेकिन चेहरे में एक झिझक नज़र आई जो नए-नए काम करनेवालों के चेहरे में होती है । पता चला कि पहलेवाली अध्यापिका को अचानक नौकरी छोड़नी पड़ी, इसलिए इसकी नियुक्ति अस्थायी रूप से हुई है । आनेवाले दिनों में देखा कि वह अध्यापिका बच्चों से अच्छी तरह घुलमिल गई है, जिसका नाम लता था । बच्चे उसके आगे-पीछे घुमते, खाने के वक्त उसे बच्चों को खिलाते देखा । एक दो बच्चे उसकी गोद में भी दिखाई पड़े । बच्चों को पास बिठाकर लिखाती-अढ़ाती रहती । मन निश्चिंत हुआ, क्योंकि इतने छोटे बच्चों के लिए अध्यापिका का मिलना कठिन होता है । एक साल से ज़्यादा कोई टिकता ही नहीं था । बढ़-चढ़कर सबकी मदद करती ।हम सब अध्यापिकाएँ उसे पसंद करने लगे । यों ही दिन गुज़रते गए, वह स्थायी रूप से नियुक्त हो गई । उसके दो बच्चे, एक बेटा और एक बेटी इसी स्कूल में पढ़ रहे थे । बेटा आठवीं में था और बेटी दसवीं में । बेटा कुछ शैतान और

Sketchstory No. 6 - 'Tuesday 3:30 pm Meeting' by Usha Iyer

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Ha!! That was a meeting no one will not forget in a hurry. One that the seniors will tell their juniors about whenever possible. Years later, those who were in the meeting will tell their versions of the same meeting as a story they were a part of, like people talk about the World Cup victory or some other event they really were not part of. But that is where the whole fun of storytelling is! Right? But hey! I am exaggerating! It wasn't really that type of a historic event. Certainly not impacting (did the World Cup victory impact us in any way? I don’t know!) too many people in that meeting room. Actually it impacted just 4 of us. Of which 3 were to be impacted for just over 3 weeks.  The only person in the middle of all this, whose life might be impacted forever, is only one person. Me!! I, Kriti, 44, Senior VP, Sales & Marketing, in this fancy multinational firm (name withheld for reasons of privacy) that sells stuff the children mustn't really eat(but that’s not the poi

Sketchstory No. 3 - 'The skirt, the sand and the sea' by Anchita Ghatak

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“What fun to be sitting here like this! And wearing these clothes,” thought Purnima to herself. “What would they think in Ponchanontola? And her employer? She would have a fit!” She remembered the day she had gone to work in a long skirt and a pretty top. “You’ve come to clean my house. Not to a party,” her employer had sneered. “Don’t pretend to be who you aren’t.” Deepa, the girl who lived next door, had helped Purnima open a bank account. “Make sure you save some money every month,” Deepa had advised her. “Don’t tell your family how much you earn.” Deepa went to college and unlike most other young women in their locality didn’t think of sex, marriage and movies all the time. She wanted to have a good job and be free. Actually, Purnima often didn’t understand what Deepa talked about but she was impressed all the same. Deepa was quite a bit younger than Purnima but knew so much more. Purnima had saved a thousand rupees a month for the last three years in a recurring deposit account an