Will Write For Coffee

and food and vacations, too.

Month: March 2016 (page 1 of 2)

Pappa’s Retirement Speech


So my father is retiring this month from Union Bank of India after 38 long years of service there.

We had a small function over the weekend, to celebrate his journey. (My parents have way more active social life than I do.)

So, I gave a little speech on his retirement. Here’s what I had to say.

Hello, I am Nirwa, Gaurang Mehta’s younger daughter. Before we start fighting for the TV remote at home, I’d like to say a few things about him.

My father taught me how to speak, how to walk and how to get back up every time I fall. To see, to observe, to absorb. nishaan chook maaf, nahin maaf nichu nishaan. To aim high. And it is okay to miss the mark, as long as you do not lower your aim. Dream big. Fail. Dream bigger. Fail better.

He inculcated the habit of reading in me. To explore, to not be afraid to imagine. To not be afraid to take the first step, on the road less traveled. He may not agree with my career and life choices, but he has been there, every time I came across a setback, like a rock. His relentless support has been instrumental in me being what I am today.

He taught me to find humour in every day things. That a day without laughter is a day wasted. And most importantly, to take things in my stride and laugh at myself. Along with the eccentricities, we have even inherited his sense of humour. I shall forever be grateful for that.

Lastly, I would like to say that among many other wise decisions he has taken, the best one was to marry my mother. Because it takes willpower of steel to stay with us and not lose your mind. So, Pappa, thank you for being you and Mummy, thank you for being there for us, always.

Happy retirement, Pappa! :) Enjoy your new phase in life. :)

Of heartbreaks

Love is the most extraordinary and most devastating thing at the same time.

No matter how rational a person you are, when you fall in love, you cease to be the person you are.

Sometimes I wish falling out of love were as easy as falling in love. I fall in love easily. I would see someone who laughs effortlessly, I would fall in love. Of course, most of these are not reciprocated. So, the cute left handed guy with lovely eyelashes with great sense of humour, I may have fallen in love with him even as he is oblivious to my being completely besotted.

But then, when these feelings are not reciprocated, recovery is relatively easy.

But when they are reciprocated, to certain extent, and when they are withdrawn, without warning, the acute pain you feel in the heart – it seems so real that heartache does not just remain a metaphorical word. Every single thing reminds you of them.

Someone mentions the city they live in and you are swindled back into the time when you talked long distance. When someone mentions the places you had talked about, you suddenly find yourself back there, alone.

When you hear a song on the radio, you are reminded of an inside joke, which just two of you know of, and instead of turning up the volume, you change the channels.

When you see pictures of the places you had decided you will visit together, the Taj Mahal, long walk at the beaches, you close the window and think to yourself, the Taj is overrated. Beaches are dirty and full of dog poop anyway.

When the phone calls, the messages stop altogether.

When you don’t have anyone to share the grief with, because the person you wanted to share with no longer does and hence you must learn to not lose yourself the way you lost your heart.

The thing about heartbreak is, it demands to be felt. To see how much pain you are capable of living with. To see how it is okay if people leave you mid-way. It is not you, it is them. We all know it, but it is still difficult.

Love is a drug because it destroys you. Totally.

But even then, love is all we need.

At this point, trying very, very hard to remain a hopeful romantic.

The Yamuna Inquisition

@LordKrishna: I just checked in at Vrindavan on #SwampApp with the buddies. Playing ball. #YOLO

@HerdBoy1: Hey, be careful. Don’t throw ball in the Yamuna. Kaliya lives there.

@HerdBoy2: Yeah, man. It’s even worse than Sheilaji crying and increasing the water level by 2 inches upstream, in Delhi.

@LordKrishna: Scardey-poos, you guys. It’s just a snake, what could he do?

@HerdBoy1: Well, he spews venom. ALL THE TIME!

@LordKrishna: Like those nasty sly tweeters?

@HerdBoy2: No, not as bad, but the real kind of poison. The one which can literally kill you.

@LordKrishna: *smirks* kill me? *throws ball inside Yamuna*


@LordKrishna: Of course.

@LordKrishna: I just checked in at Yamuna on #SwampApp. Kaliya, I demand trial by combat!

@K4Kaliya: *hisssss* go away.

@LordKrishna: No.

@K4Kaliya: *hisssss* I will kill you.

@LordKrishna: Try.

@K4Kaliya: *wraps self around @LordKrishna and tries to choke him*

@LordKrishna: Btw, I’ve survived Delhi’s polluted air. The jokes on you. #KrishnaTrumpsKaliya

@K4Kaliya: *hugs tightly*

@LordKrishna: Lulz. You don’t even have hands, bro. *jumps on Kaliya’s head and dances*

@MrsKaliya: Plz, let him go.

@LordKrishna: Okay, but he’s gotta leave this river.


PS: If satire offends your religious beliefs, then all offence intended. My religion isn’t weak.


PPS: Last part inspired by the Spanish Inquisition.

The Pink Dupatta (part 2)

Read part 1 here.

That day, Raghav could not concentrate on his work. He had to make a presentation for a prospective client, but all he could do that day was stare at his computer screen.

He didn’t want to face Naina. He hated this feeling but he could not stop thinking her. When Naina smiled, he noticed her dimples. Correction, dimple. Just one side. Right side. He wanted to put his finger on her left cheek as she smiled to even out the dimples. He imagined the scene in his head and smiled.

His trail of thoughts was disturbed by a phone call. Nisha. They had to go shopping for her father’s 60th birthday party. Damn. He had forgotten all about it.

“In a meeting”, he texted her. “Will call back.”

Naina’s work station was on the other end of the room, in the creative studio. The marketing team sat across the creative team which had content writers and graphic designers. A strand of loose hair kept falling on her eyes and she tucked it behind her ear for the fourth time. Her silver dangling earring moving every time she did that.

He was besotted.

He had to get back to work.

He went downstairs with Sanjay for a smoke. “I’ll just call Nisha and join you upstairs,” he told Sanjay.

“Nisha, let’s go over the weekend. Saturday evening, definitely,” he said.

Nisha and Raghav have been together since last 3 years and have decided to tie the knot earlier next year. This family gathering for her father’s 60th birthday will be his introduction to the family, the formal announcement amidst Nisha’s extended family.

“I am lucky to have her in my life,” he thought. “I love Naina,” he said aloud. Naina? He stopped in his tracks. He meant to say Nisha. Not Naina. Nisha.

“Sanjay, turn off my system, I need to go home. Something urgent has turned up. I’m taking rest of the day off,” he called Sanjay.

Raghav needed to get out of this madness. He needed to clear his head.

He needed to get away from Naina.

To be continued…

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