Story 2: The Indian Summer

Floss, bleach, brush - once with Sodium BiCarb and then again with Colgate-Super Whitening toothpaste. He was very particular about this nightly routine. A routine that not only gave him a dazzling smile, but had also, in the process of doing so, made his teeth sensitive. At 23, Ajay could not eat sweets, because his jaw would hurt for a day and a half. And then came Sensodyne.

So, now, Ajay's nightly routine had to accommodate one more member. These additions have to stop was that last thing to enter his mind as he drifted to sleep. Clouds gathered in the night sky to hide the moon.

October skies have never been kind to the soul, but then again, which wintry night has ? September eloped with August, making October wait for November. Like a woman scorned or a particularly vindictive man, October lashed and whipped the poor working class, the commuters, the cyclists, the motorists, the factory workers, the children and uncategorized snorers like Ajay Ramaswamy.

While his nights were quite unremarkable, unreflective, Ajay's wake up hours were unusually existential. He was never in a rush. If he had to show up for work at 8:30, he would wake up at 8 am and stare out of his window and think to himself, as he ponders today, Is this all a dream ? Can sleep itself ever be a dream ?

His mind wanders to his grandparents' Gujarati verandah, more a marbled porch than a gardened terrace. His mind takes him back to when he was five.

The scorching afternoon sun meant the elders took a nap. This left five year old Ajay and his seven year old neighbor Meena to frolic in the construction sand dropped off by government contractors. Today, Ajay and Meena would build the largest house in the world - with Sabarmati sands. They had an hour to design, break ground and execute this epic project. Meena digs into the soft mound, while Ajay looks for small chunks of clay.

The foundation gives way after fifteen minutes of hard labor and the project is quickly shelved. Meena and Ajay retreat to the cool verandah - two little refugees. Ajay babbles on about how they should steal some bricks next time, while Meena scans the asphalt landscape for mirages that carried stories of far away lands. Yes they do carry stories, she would exclaim with the sort of wisdom that only a seven year old could effectively convey, each time Ajay mocked Meena's beliefs. For five, he was logical, too logical bordering on Spockish pragmatism.

I saw my parents kiss last night, Meena says. Ajay stops talking immediately.

Really ? On the mouth ?, his eyes widen.

Yes.

That's bad, no ?

Well, my mom said, its ok.

Its not ok ! Its bad to kiss. My parents never kiss !

Its ok to kiss if you love each other.Meena's words often went far beyond the conservative nature of the place and era.

Ajay looks into Meena's big brown eyes, in disbelief.

Meena leans over and planted a kiss on Ajay's lips. Their mouths touch for exactly three and a half seconds. Meena withdraws.

Does this mean we are in love ? asks Ajay.

Do you love me ?

Ajay had woken up to a question that was best left unanswered. In almost two decades after his summer kiss on the verandah, Ajay had become an expert at dodging matters of the heart. His pondering stops with the ominous buzz of the cell phone. It buzzes twice and stops. It is a message from the mother of his almost-unborn.

Do you love me ?

Ajay leaves to brush his teeth and today, he will skip Sensodyne.

Story 1: The First (un)born

My period is delayed she mentioned non-chalantly.

Ajay had never thought about the repurcussions of unprotected sex.

It had been a month ago, at a friend's party. Ajay called home and informed that he would be crashing at his friend's place because the bus service would be cancelled. Of course I'm not drinking. I don't drink, mom! he said on the phone and hung up. Pink Floyd played on the old boombox as a joint went around the room and then again.

To Ajay, the room was going around him. A hand got hold of his biscep and the next time he opened his eyes, he was in a closet with a topless woman who was fumbling with his belt buckle. The night was wild, music loud and raw lust was evening's chosen dress and what was to happen, happened.

A month and a few weeks later, she signed on to our favorite chat messenger service. A few hi's and hello's were exchanged. And then came inevitable.

My period is delayed she mentioned non-chalantly.

His world stopped. His heart stopped. And then started up again. This time he could feel his heart pounding under his forehead. How could this ever happen ?

Don't get emotional about it she told him. How could he not ? This was the first time it had ever happened to him. Images of bloody axes, lynched babies and half born fetuses clouded Ajay's mind as he Googled abortion clinics in his area. If we are to undergo this, we'll do it together.

And then the phone rang. It was the mother of his possibly unborn child. She requested a pregnancy kit. Within the next three and a half mintues Ajay was at the cornerstore pharmacy run by the old Indian couple, ordering a pregnancy kit.

The old man knew Ajay's parents. News would spread across town, especially in this day and age of fiber optic cables, telephones and the internet - the internet ! Ajay's stories would be on a blog by the end of the day, in forwarded e-mails, the CAS might be contacted by the end of the week and his parents would have a heart attack within forty-eight hours. What's a boy to do !

Ajay paid for the pregnancy kit and was at the house of the mother of his possibly unborn child. She thanked him for it and asked him to leave. She said she would call him that night.

When is night ? When the sun goes down ? It was winter. The sun went down at four-thirty. Is it night ? No. Not yet. It'll be night, when she calls.

The phone rang.

Do they take returns on unused pregnancy kits.

Why ?

I just had my period. I'm usually late.

Ajay hung up. He would never see her again.