Perfect Day for an Imperfect Picture

The Chamberlains head over to the lighthouse to get a memorable family picture clicked. Mia goes with a sullen face, her teenage angst making her want it to be something she could get over with as soon as possible. But family values have a knack of making themselves felt in unusual ways. 

“Mia, come on up! You’re going to miss it!” called out Brandy in her eloquent voice.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. It’s not like you are going to have the picture taken without me. How I would love that, though,” said Mia, rolling her eyes over at her mother.

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The Writer Who Couldn’t Write – Final Chapter

Vikram is finally able to write something with his hands. He is worried about its quality and appeal more than he has ever been in his career as a writer. His heart beats frantically, but it’s more so because of an emotion he has never experienced before.

 

When Vikram handed her the letter the day after she returned, he saw a look of disbelief on Malini’s face. He hadn’t said anything but just placed the letter in her hand. Her hands had felt the dotted impressions immediately, but her mind was taking its time believing it. She passed her hand over the sheet of paper and sat down without a word.

Vikram watched her both keenly and apprehensively as her fingers traced the characters slowly. Varsha joined them a minute later but froze when she saw the two of them. She knew what was happening before she saw her sister read something she had never read herself. She had seen it in his eyes.

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The Writer Who Couldn’t Write – Chapter Four

Vikram and Malini get closer as the two spend more and more time together. Opening up to each other is much easier than talking out loud to themselves for the both of them. As they continue seeing each other on a daily basis, Vikram finds a way to overcome his writing handicap.

 

Vikram spent his evenings at Malini’s for the next month. He would go there when she was done giving lessons. He would then read to the sisters. They always sat in the living room or on the patio if the weather was pleasant. The house had two rooms but Vikram had only ever seen the living room. It was rather large and had a set of small mattresses lined in one corner where Malini gave her lessons. A sofa set and coffee table occupied the main area, and the rest was empty space. The lack of furniture didn’t look like the result of poor interior planning. It separated the dining table from the sofa set.

After the first few days, he started spending time with Malini once he was done reading to them. Varsha hadn’t objected to it, but there was a hesitance in Malini’s manner whenever they were alone. They would often go out for a walk at night. Vikram noticed how Malini would always bring something up to talk about, careful not to let any silence creep between them. It helped them tell each other everything about themselves.

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The Writer Who Couldn’t Write – Chapter Three

Vikram, the writer who cannot write, is entranced by his encounter with Malini, the blind woman with something special. He revisits his old habit of writing something for a woman, but things are different this time.

It had started raining a short while after Vikram got up the next morning. He had only had a couple of hours of sleep and his head felt heavy. The weather helped him deal with it better. He always found rain soothing.

It wasn’t a typical Mumbai downpour. The signs of rain had been there for a while, and the shower wasn’t thunderous. It was a welcome change for Vikram.

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The Writer Who Couldn’t Write – Chapter Two

Vikram is having a tough time dealing with his disheartening disability when he comes across someone who changes his mind

 

Vikram sat looking at the woman on the opposite seat in the local train. He briefly shifted his gaze when a strapping six feet tall transgender dressed in a sari asked the boy sitting next to the woman for some change. The boy smiled meekly and shrugged his shoulders. The transgender smiled in return, pulled the boy’s cheek softly, and walked on. Barring this brief distraction, Vikram kept his eyes fixed on the woman.

She kept staring out the window looking at nothing in particular. It was a skill Vikram had often marvelled at, for he had always found it impossible to stare out the window of a moving vehicle like that. It was partly because of that, partly because she was quite attractive, but mostly because she was completely unaware of his presence that he remained looking at her.

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