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Showing posts from February, 2010

We Knew

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It was our three-month ultrasound. We thought it would be like the movies, where you look at an ultra hi-def screen and the baby is crystal clear. It felt like a big moment. I had left work early that afternoon and was hoping to get back quickly. After all, it was just a routine visit, or so I thought. We checked in and were shown into the examination room. The nurse asked Hema to lie down on the bed. She applied gel and began moving the probe across her abdomen, looking for a heartbeat. Her reaction made us realize something was wrong. Hema and I looked at each other. The nurse didn't say anything. She simply said she would be back in a minute. We knew. The doctor came in, repeated the scan, and after a few moments told us that he was unable to detect a heartbeat. It was one of the lowest points of our lives. Three months in, we had already started imagining birthdays, schools, and family vacations. When you experience a miscarriage, it feels as ...

The hurt walker

What a lucky guy? I thought to myself as I saw him walk past me.  An expression that would be reserved for a fellow guy not if he was an intellectual genius or Albert Einstein's alter ego, but if he was walking with an absolute beauty of a babe or obviously, if I had other intentions.  The most incredible aspect of the male pheromone is obviously the ability to influence every member of the same species with a common trait that virtually nullifies the uniqueness of the individual.  In short, perception of unique thought is nothing but absolutely universal.  Well, I digress, but that's what I was doing literally.  I was launching a scalene triangle to cover half a pace.  You can imagine the frontal movement of my legs.  It was as though I was transformed into a dog when I tried to move forward.  Herculean, monumental, outstanding and sensational were words reduced to grave insignificance compared to the amount of happiness I secured when I moved fo...

Just another day

Why don't you help me in the kitchen? I have so many things to do. I could just hear the usual faint cry from the kitchen.  After so many years of marriage, I was getting used to these little things. Father, why don't you budge from that freakin' newspaper? The second source of disturbance was from none other than my ever social Sahana .  She was busy too.  At least, it made me feel better that she was calling me as father, instead of various condensed versions of abominate equivalents.  They were fancy killers, really! I mean who would want to be called as papa or puppy (disgusting, who wants to be called like that!) or whatever .  By the way, getting back to the real reason of she being busy. Sahana , don't shout at me like that.  I have a hundred reasons to be unhappy with you.  What are you doing in front of the laptop? Is this the reason you asked me to get you a Mac? Why can't you just communicate with your friends over phone? Or still b...