Will Areena Forget?

Areena returned home from her dance class. She rushed to her room and looked at herself in the mirror. She pulled her black hair back, extended her right leg backwards and smiled at herself; she then took off her jacket and observed her body-shape. Looking at her slim frame, she smiled again. She walked downstairs for dinner singing to herself.

The lamp was switched on oozing out honey-like light. Areena stopped and bent down to smell the roses she had bought the other day and inhaled the smell. Still sweet! She set the table and sat on the brown chair to eat her food. Her father came and sat in front of her. She continued to eat.

“Where is the chappati?” Mr. Patel shouted.

“It’s here, it’s here” said Areena’s mother putting a chappati on his plate.

“Where is the vegetable that I had asked you to make?” Mr. Patel shouted again.

“How dare you speak to my mother like that?” said Areena.

“Will you teach me how to speak to my wife?”

“Papa if you expect other people to respect you then you must respect others too,” said Areena.

“Don’t respect me; who is asking you to respect me? Rina ask this girl to shut up or I will in my way,” said Mr. Patel.

Areena stood up and shouted: “I do not mind; you can do whatever you like to do. Come on, hit me; hit me.”

Mr. Patel stood up and was about to hit Areena when Mrs. Patel came out of the kitchen and stood in-between them.

“Mamma, let him hit me. Hit me, hit me, hit me.”

Mr. Patel pushed Mrs. Patel and slapped Areena on her cheek.

Areena looked at him and screamed out aloud.

“Ha! You scream like that and nobody will ever love you.”

Areena ran to her room and closed the door. She cried for sometime after which she picked up a book to complete her homework. As soon as she opened it, she threw it away. Nobody will love me! Nobody will love me! She lay on the cold floor behind the closed door and went off to sleep there.

“Areena wake up! Wake up sweetheart”, the  voice of a man fell on Areena’s ears.

“Nobody will love me! Nobody will love me!” she cried loudly.

“But I will Areena; I will always love you even when you are angry; when you are depressed; when you are at your lowest; I will always love you,” said Riyan and held her in his arms.

“Please tell me that you will never hit me.”

“Why would I hit you? Did you dream of your father again?”

Areena nodded her head and Riyan kissed her on her forehead.

                                                                                                                         -Kriti Malhotra

Why do I read?

My relationship with reading had begun with the fairy-tales. I clearly remember reading the abridged versions of 'Cinderella' and 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'. At that time, however, reading was meaningless for me; as meaningless as life was for me. My first real relationship with reading began when one of my aunts gifted me a book called 'The Famous Five' by Enid Blyton. It was my first novel of adventure and realism. I started frequenting the book-store as a result. I must admit that since then, the journey has not been without its periods of droughts.

For me, reading is as good as a therapy; it calms me down when my mind is going helter-skelter and makes me feel fulfilled. However cliched and naive as it may sound, books have been sort of my friends. They have given m company when I have been physically sick or emotionally perturbed. Sometimes, when I am able to do nothing, I pick up a book!

Reading helps me to explore alternative points of view; to understand them and therefore, be able to visualize the vast spectrum of human thoughts and emotions.

Reading makes my world a bit interesting. Every book has something different in it. Many writers chose to document their own experiences through writing. These experiences reflect the complexities of life; how human beings have stood strong in difficult situations and the different paths that they have walked on to make their lives work. Not only does this make books interesting but also inspiring.

Often, reading helps me escape into another world in which I forget about my troubles and enter a dream-like state. Some of the reading is done viscerally. In this context, reading has an escapist function for the readers.

Reading is also an achievement. The number of books read and the number of pages read in a day often gives me a sense of satisfaction.

Reading has helped me expand my mind, become more sympathetic to the under-privileged and the oppressed, helped me appreciate life and the people in it more and of course, acted as a good friend.

                                                                                                                   -Kriti Malhotra