anuja's: an sms story70

anuja's: an sms story70: "Anna was wearing blue jeans and a very conservative top which accentuated her new-found slimness. a brown thick band of watch on her&nbsp..."

an sms story70

Anna was wearing blue jeans and a very
conservative top which accentuated her
new-found slimness. a brown thick band
of watch on her right wrist. a black leather
handbag.she always feels guilty about using
the leather ones but the substitutes have not
proved to be fit for roughing it up.Khadim footwear.
the only ones that didn't give her feet rough skin.
as she explored  floor to floor...she can tell the
positions of various sections blindfolded...she remembered
her answers to Armaan's messages.

Anna:One of the most
powerful visions i
have experienced
was the first
photograph of
earth from outer
space. The image of
a blue planet
floating in deep
space, glowing like
the full moon on a
clear night...The
Dalai Lama


Anna:Always forgive ur
enemies-nothing
annoys them as
much-oscar wilde



Anna:Never imagine
urself not to be
otherwise than
what it might
appear to others
that what u were or
might have been
was not otherwise
than what u had
been ud have
appeared to them
to be otherwise-alice in wonderland

all the days before Armaan answered, she had waited.
and she had done one other thing. she had opened her documents
and looked for an appropriate pic to go with her Orkut profile.
which could justify her present glam while grasping the old looks...
for an old acquaintance to recognize her as herself, the Anna of
roundish face, thin lips and bright eyes.she looked like a teenager
in her mid-twenties...and she has matured as a woman now and there
lie the difficulty.would he be able to recognize in this woman that girl?
because a girl she was then....                                     (to be contd.)

anuja's: an ams story69

anuja's: an ams story69: "the love that you withhold is the pain that you carry. who said this? she doesn't remember.the line sings in her ears like an attacking b..."

an ams story69

the love that you withhold is the pain that you carry.
who said this? she doesn't remember.the line sings
in her ears like an attacking bee.bee in the bonnet.this
phrase reminds her of Agatha Christie.bee...bonnet..
double bee..Bibi, proper noun...Satyajit Ray' story..
as she searches for her favourite brand Biotique's
numerous items in Bigbazaar.she goes through the
shelves, religiously, choosing or discarding according
to her needs...the counter-girls hovering nearby, ready
to help with suggestions, eager to push sales of a
particular brand.why Biotique? try this, try that..
she feels embarrassed...these girls, standing for hours
and serving customers..tired lines beneath the eyes..
feels guilty as she goes materialistic headlong.foods, nuts,
cheese, masala tea and face-packs, creams,serums, body oils,
cleansers...all herbal products.and she feels her most polite
smile directed at these girls to be condescending..
have any of them got her very own particular brand of Armaan?
she touches the shelf containing the beauty-brand products
bearing  Armaan's synonym.she doesn't buy them.
                                                                (to be contd.)

                                                    

anuja's: an sms story50

anuja's: an sms story50: " How to send messages-that was the problem.her Airtel connection was blocked off as punishment for not submitting papers of her cit..."

anuja's: an sms story49

anuja's: an sms story49: "as the sun's rays became warmer, darkening the skin of her neck, she remembered how she used to adorn herself for Armaan's eyes only. it ..."

anuja's: an sms story48

anuja's: an sms story48: "3.45a.m.... Armaan:I WANT TO SPEAK A LOT TO U ANN..PLZ GIMME TIME.. WITHOUT HURTING ME ( AN ADOLOSENT KID)... 3.51a.m..... A..."

anuja's: an sms story67

anuja's: an sms story67: "law reminds her of him.she avoids the legal topics...in the newspaper, on television, in films..everywhere..and the topics haunt he..."

an sms story68

law reminds her of him.she avoids the legal topics...in the newspaper,
on television,  in films..everywhere..and the topics haunt her with an obstinacy,
like his name. she is reminded of an Iranian poem which she had read in her
childhood..
far out in the forest of Chinar, the storm rages madly,
the cashew nut-moon shines up in the sky and i am reminded
of you whose very name is forbidden to me...
this river-like youth, this runner-like time never mingles
with each other.Time stares at her youth from across
the waters and sighs.i wanted to be your river, i want
to be your river...for you to glide smooth, glide rough...
                                                              (to be contd.)

anuja's: an sms story67

anuja's: an sms story67: "this winter is seeing rains finally. cold drops...thip, thip thip all night long..the whole courtyard resembling a pool in the shivering m..."

an sms story67

this winter is seeing rains finally. cold drops...thip, thip
thip all night long..the whole courtyard resembling a pool
in the shivering morning. Anna goes to bed and imagines nights..
nights with Armaan. as she has done all these years. as she has
decided to remain his till the end of time..her time.and these rainy-cold
nights fill her with thoughts lovely, of Armaan and his sensual eyes,
the stare..sole key to her solo heart. Anna shivers, enjoys the shivering,
the chattering of teeth as she finishes supper in a perfunctory manner.

in the morning Armaan sends messages.in the afternoon.at night. he chats her

up anytime he pleases as she looks for affection, in vein. she goes through

his messages and her answers.the dilemma, whether she should revert back to 

the mode of self-revelation, albeit in a symbolic way. or to give dry

answers to his friendly-naughty messages. she feels it is not exclusive,
this chat, he probably does it with all of his female acquaintances..its
not 'their' conversation. Anna and Armaan's. it is conversation.just.
commonplace. natural. social communication via technology.
                                                                       (to be contd.)
                                                                      

anuja's: an sms story66sms

anuja's: an sms story66sms: "wonder what she would've done without the rectangular screen, by the side of her bed. the sleepless nights and the repentance that eats..."

an sms story66sms

wonder what she would've done without the rectangular screen,
by the side of her bed. the sleepless nights and the repentance
that eats her...she surfs the net...Central Asia, Kashmir,Urheinmet
....endless downloads.. like an addict. night after night while Armaan sleeps
on his married bed. and when he has the time n mood or feels like it,
sends a message. all the warm camaraderie of those two days gone.
she had expected to hear more...but where were the words?as if you
indulge a mad person because you are afraid of her outbursts. or you take pity
on that person. Anna's  stakes with Armaan  are low now as she pursued
him this time.but she can't imagine a day without his messages.puts up
with his indifference.where are the other options?





Armaan:Which fruits relate 2
me. Orange-
Proudy, Grape-
Naughty, Banana-
Stylish, Mango-
Sweet, Papaya-
Rude, Apple- Gud
Luking, Chiku-
Frank, Strawberry-
Sexy, Pear-
Caring. Reply Truly.
                     (to be contd.)

anuja's: an sms story65

anuja's: an sms story65: "Anna....holds on to Armaan as she listens to Enrique's Latino pathos..you, do you remember me..i walk on the streets alone... as if the s..."

an sms story65

Anna....holds on to Armaan as she listens to Enrique's Latino
pathos..you, do you remember me..i walk on the streets alone...
as if the song was written for her, and her only....and she accepts
the inevitable at last..she will be Armaan's.at any cost.what has she got to
do with society's rules? the society which abuses its children within
the sanctity of marital bond, which conducts witch hunt against
people with 'different' inclinations, where closet homosexuals are
compelled to ruin other lives along with their own...all in the name of
morality and tradition...what evil has ever been successfully encountered
by  this society? its iron-clad rules have given birth to newer evils and
oppressions.people paid only lip-service  to sermons.
this limping morality  is always on its strongest leg only while sacrificing love.
Anna won't.


Armaan:GV me a title:
1)Thief of hearts
2)Source of smyl
3)Fun bomb
4)Sensitive
5)Romantic idiot
6)Beautiful soul
7)Romantic wid a
twist
4ward 2 al U knw
bt rply me 1st
            (to be contd.)

an sms story64

she wakes up before 5a.m. in the morning.the birds twitter in the
soft blue of first light.cuckoo, ....... cuckoos,the spring-birds, nowadays they sing
in all seasons.she is reminded of Holi n the colours.she shuts her mind off from the sound.
goes to the showcase and takes out a book.where are the sparrows gone? they say it is because
of the mobiles.the waves of the towers are bad for the sparrows' heart.the windows remain tight-shut.
Anna takes thyronorm.religiously.everyday.and stands before the mirror.sees the thin outline of
of her figure.takes out the old jeans, feels her waist, runs her hands over the hills n valleys.59k.g.
it will do....
and waits for more messages.somehow a belief runs in her veins that the messages would
lead her someday to Armaan, in flesh n blood.she would see him in person.the face.the thirst....
                                                                                                                        (to be contd.)

anuja's: an sms story63

anuja's: an sms story63: "Anna ran her finger on her friend's number.... he has answered! hey. he has!! great! tell me, what he has typed. how weird it was. nob..."

an sms story63

Anna ran her finger on her friend's number....

he has answered! hey. he has!!

great! tell me, what he has typed.

how weird it was. nobody these days said 'written'
or 'said'. it was always 'typed'...

her girlfriend couldn't understand the meaning
of the message either. but she was happy that  Armaan's solid
silence was broken at last.

what did you say?

nothing. don't know what to write because don't understand
the meaning. depth of whom? mine? or his?
                                              (to be contd.)

anuja's: an sms story62

anuja's: an sms story62: "Anna lay in the honey-coloured light of the smooth sun. two mobiles by her side.the Neem tree above drew patterns in the shadow.she..."

an sms story62

Anna lay in the honey-coloured light of the smooth sun.
two mobiles by her side.the Neem tree above drew
patterns in the shadow.she thought of the money she
got...a meagre amount sans the prestige that comes
from the association with academia.career: Zero;
life: Zero; love: Zero. maimed life, hurt mind. Bonus:
public scrutiny. when it comes to taking stock of the
life, there is nothing in the stock.the monthly cycles gone
to complete waste. from the biological point of view,
a thorough failure...a failed affair with life!

from the side-vision she caught  movement in both of her
mobiles...something is happening within.Anna took the red n black
one out of the black leather cover and...


Armaan:Most of d time v r
so busy in judging
people by 'lengths'
'breadths' n
'heights'
tht v forget, dat
each 1 of us is
gifted wid a heart
where depth too
matters!
        (to be contd.)