Olive Chaudhuri

“ Baba, I really wish you didn't take up this shift. ” I smiled at my beautiful, loving daughter. She always cares too much about me. As I do the same for her. She needs to go to dance school. She loves dance, my lovely girl. I want her to learn at a proper school and these school fees are expensive. I want her to have a shot at all her dreams. If this is one of her dreams, I want her to achieve it. I am a taxi driver. I had decided to take up the night shift at the cab company I was working for. It was unofficially called the ‘ After Hours ' shift. However, this is not really my story. This is the story of how one passenger helped me stay awake on my very first day at this new shift. I am getting ahead though. I must begin where all stories begin. At the beginning. My taxi was booked to drive a gentleman from Ranaghat to Behala that night. It was a 3 hour journey. The gentleman sat next to me instead of behind like everyone else does. I looked at him curiously and switched on...

//  As I sat there, looking down my terrace with a cigarette between my fingers, I felt empty. It felt like all the reasons I loved about being alive, are suddenly my reasons to end my breathing. I was smiling with tears, as smoke exhaled after every drag was vanishing in heavy winds like the 15 stories high building is consuming more cigarettes than my lungs. “Aasra!” Namit said out of breath. “I knew I would find you here” “Hey” I smiled. His presence to me does what charging do to a dying battery. He came and sat with me carefully. “This part of terrace has no railings, you should be very careful here Aasra, especially during nights.” He was right how come I never thought about jumping from here? How will it feel like? Then I can hear my own voice roaring in air like thunder while going down. But, what about the burden of culpability I am carrying? Will it vanish with my breathing? “Aasra” He signalled on the cigarette which was now ignited to the verge of the filter end and abo...

//  I woke up in the middle of the night. I was sweating profusely. I wiped the sweat off from my face and took a deep breath. I slid out from the blanket as my t-shirt was also soaked in sweat and I was feeling drained. I was about to get up when I heard the sound of the bathroom door closing loudly. I got up, muttering in anger. "I've told her a thousand times." But Jaanvi won't ever understand it as usual. Just, when I was about to get out from the bed to scold her, I saw the ceiling fan and the lights swinging. Maybe I was still dizzy by sleep, but I didn't have time for that. I had to teach my wife a lesson for a billionth time, to close the bathroom door gently. I went to the bathroom, but couldn't find her there. I turned towards the bed and found her tucking in the blanket. "What's wrong?" She asked in a groggy tone. "You've got to close that door a little lightly, I've already told you so many times." "Mmm.. Sorry ...

//  “Meera”, the therapist called. “You sure you don’t wanna say anything?” He asked. I looked at him and shook my head. “Give it a try Meera. Words will help in healing.” Like every day I gave him As-If-I-Care look and went back to my room. And like always he chanted from behind - “Confessions are good for the soul Meera”. I came back to my bed and start thinking about why does he keep saying that? Is this a part of his psychological study or just a random one-liner he flaunts. And do I give a f*uk? I mean, all I have to do is eat thrice a day, take these medicines which keeps me drowsy, attend therapy, look around other so-called patients from my window who roam around like zombies, lay on the bed and stare the ceiling for hours with this unique peculiar medicinal smell around me. Except for the silences, I hate everything about this place. But now this is a life I’m destined to live, life in a mental asylum. Now, it’s been more than a year here. I haven’t spoken to anybody yet. ...

//  “Whoever says luxury is your best friend, never owned a dog.” I still remember the day when I brought him home. A shiny cute little Golden Retriever puppy. I raised him from feeding cerelac to chicken chunks, fetching the ball to his early morning walks. It is never like I have so much absence around me, I cremated my wife 10 years ago. Both my sons are married now and they are busy expanding my business. Their wives are a bit more social so their shopping, kitty and clubbing never goes out of fashion. Grandchildren are strictly advised to stay away from me, so any of my preachings shouldn’t spoil them. To cut a long story short they hate me. I’m just a 64 year-good-for-nothing old man for them, who is spoiling their privacy with his dog in a 2-acre luxurious house (which is actually made by me). But actually nowadays, I hardly care about these tantrums as long as I have him. I named him Shadow after his merry-go-round world around me. He is actually like my shadow. He wakes wi...

//  She was staring at the passing trees, one after another. Unlike the roads of her city, this was a pleasant path to drive. No frequent brakes, no honking, no shifting of gears on every signal. Although she wanted to, but she wasn’t driving. She was at the back seat of a hired sedan on her way to Nandi Hills from Bangalore. She was strictly instructed neither to drive her own car for this visit nor carry her smartphone for the journey. Mishika had never witnessed this feeling. It was a mixture, she was nervous but also very excited about it. She wasn’t joyous but wasn’t sad either. She had been to Nandi hills before. But not like this – alone without any phone, without telling her daughters, without her husband’s knowledge. Her husband, every time she thinks about him, her eyes welled up. Atul and she had been married for the past seventeen years now, have a beautiful home with two beautiful daughters. Yet, she’s on her way to hills to meet another man without anyone’s knowledge....

  // I was about to deboard the train when I spotted her. I closely looked at her to reconfirm as I didn’t want myself to end up as an eve teaser beaten by the fellow passengers travelling around in metro. It was definitely her but I couldn’t be sure. She did have those same eyes, same dimple on her chin and a very small mole on her neck. I stared at her for a minute then I took a deep breath and went to her. I waved at her as she was fiddling with her smartphone listening to something, She noticed me and pulled out the earphones. “Hey, you are Devika, right?” I asked her with fingers crossed. She nodded “I'm sorry, but do I know you?” “I’m Ayush ” I smiled. She looked at me with a confused I’m–still- not-getting-who-you-are look. “We studied together. We were classmates in eleventh & twelfth.” “I’m sorry. I seem to forget things lately” She said apologetically. I was so happy seeing her after all those years that I almost forgot it’s been 17 years since our school ended and un...