The Yellow Butterfly

It was raining. I entered the cafe disgruntled. The stupid rain had wetted by library book. And my date was running late.  So here I was drenched with murk and water expected to dry off and sit in some corner reading a wet book as my date would make a late entrance. I headed straight to the counter to order a coffee. I saw no one. I yelled, “Will I have to make my own coffee?” A boy got up from under the counter and smiled apologetically, “Sorry. I will make one for you. What would you like?”  I forgot what I wanted. He had twinkling puppy eyes and his lips wore a warm smile. His words seemed like a song that I didn’t want to end. He looked into my eyes intently waiting for me to speak.  I wanted him. I wanted him to keep on talking to me.  “I would like one hot chocolate.” “And would you like some toasties to go with it?”  I wanted to say, “Whatever you say.” But I said, “Yeah cool.” Okay now keep talking. I asked, “Will you get ...

Zubu laughed when others cried.  Zubu cracked up when he saw someone falling down and getting hurt.  Zubu became happy when he saw people sad.  Such was Zubu. People detested him. And called him The Little Devil.  Whenever Zubu walked on the streets people shunned him and ignored him. Zubu used to chuckle taking great pride in this treatment.  Zubu had no friends. And no family. As a kid he lived with a wretched, unloving aunt who had died too leaving him alone.  Zubu used to spend his day laughing at other’s miseries and then just before the sun had set he used to sit on the cliff overlooking the sea watching the orange yolk sink in the waters. Somehow this routine made him happy. But not the happiest.  Once Zubu was walking on the street when a bus sped and stopped a few feet away.  The bus sped away as fast as it had stopped. There was only one person who got off. The bus almost knocked down the person’s lugg...

Rosa was a housemaid. She worked for the Phillips, for the Grants, for the Riddles, for the Marquezs, for the Deodhars, for the Wesleys, for the D’Souzas and many more families living in the suburbs. She was a single working mother who did  other people’s house chores, looked after their children, cooked for the families, bought groceries; everything just so that her six year old daughter, Ellie could study and not end up working as a maid like her. Rosa had dreamt of all those dreams for Ellie which she had dreamt for herself.  Rosa and Ellie were not too poor but were not financially stable too. They often ran short of detergents and soaps or at times of basic food like vegetables and flour. Rosa tried her best ensuring that her their fridge was atleast stocked up with some milk and bread so that Ellie won’t starve if Rosa didn’t make it till dinner time.    One day Rosa was running late and asked her neighbour to pick up Ellie from school and bring her...

“This house is just how you had described Mr. and Mrs Kruger!”, said the house broker.  Kris and Kate walked into the apartment and stared and stared.  The house had everything they had ever wanted- a living room just adequate enough to house Kate’s small library shelf in the corner and Kris’ editing machines and still have enough space for the seating when some extra friends came over to stay, a cozy bedroom with just enough light coming in, the perfect kitchen where they would cook together not too big not small, a bathroom good enough to fit a tub,  a balcony perfect to fit two chairs where Kate could make a tiny garden and where they could sip their morning coffee or have a glass of wine at night.  Kate whispered in awe, “This is it! This is just like a dream.!” The house broker smiled and added, “Surprisingly its just a little more than the half of what you had decided as your budget.”  Kate turned to Kris loo...

Little Henry was the smallest in his family but tallest in his class. He was the only giraffe in his entire class. All his classmates were shorter than him- Jim the lion’s cub, Tim the tiger’s cub, Carrie the bear’s cub, Zazoo the alligator’s kid, Trippy the pythons’ kid, Billy the hornbills’ kid and everybody else.  Little Henry was so tall that at times he couldn’t see his classmates well from above. They did something else but he thought it was something else.  Henry had to strain his neck all the time. His neck pained every time he strained too much. At times Billy the hornbill used to fly all the way to Henry’s head and tell him what they were showing him. But by the time Little Henry understood what they were doing they were already doing something else.  Little Henry felt really sad.  picture courtesy: colourbox.com  One night Little Henry was sitting in his bed looking very sad. His father came and sat beside him and asked him, ...

I saw ‘Under the Tuscan Sun’ and by far its one of the most beautiful visual movies I have ever seen. Magical Italian landscapes, bedsheets of flowers sprawled across distances, old buildings, churches, castles; the sights straight from some fairy tale. Roads and lanes and windings on which you would want to ride a Vespa, meadows on which you would want to see your soulmate, your prince come riding along and you waiting to be swept off your feet.  The villa ‘Barmasole’ which Frances buys pretty much intuitively after she is led to it by destiny is no less than an important character which changes and shapes her life; for its the villa that brings her to meet other people and that saves her from sinking into loneliness. The transformation of the almost dilapidated, infested with insects and creeper-ed villa into the prettiest, raw but elegant of all Italian villas runs parallel to Frances’ transformation from a depressed, broken divorcee into an hopeful and happy woman....

The Sun, I feel is like a Rockstar for the Sunflowers! Whenever the sun moves, the sunflowers turn towards him and do a Mexican wave... image courtesy:  www.luigiazilli.com With their heads held high and their leaves like hands, they bow down and do a \m/ to him :) He sings and they sway and they dance, all day long till he decides to sleep...