Life-ing it up...

On the night of 7th March, my brain was furiously thinking and calculating possible scenarios. You see, the next day was Women's Day and my office had a beautiful tradition of  a gathering of female employees, they give us gifts, too. However, we are also asked to dress ethnic, or let's say, traditional. Therefore, this particular year 8th March being a Friday I had a hard time rewiring my brain to not think... DENIM! Also, it needed a lot of prep for a saree eventuality, I mean there's the eligibility criteria like waxed arms, proper accessories, right sandals, and of course shampooed hair to let it down. Phew! So much bother we women deal with just to dress up in a certain way.  Seeing this as his cue, my husband chimed in, 'Why bother... it's your day, just wear whatever you feel like.'  I was empowered, yes, the cliche being my husband's enlightening statement. Really, so much fuss on a day that's entitled to me... in fact all my term limits were my

A lovely, lazy afternoon shone with the young and bright sun of the summer's start. The nostalgic, empty courtyard of a house was a filigree of light and shade. While the husband was away in his notary office job, the lonely wife decided to shake off her torpor.  Someday at this very point of her life's story someone would write: everything was going well in their shared life until this afternoon.  She ventures into her husband's studio downstairs. She was, of course, strictly forbidden to enter this sanctum in the very beginning of their journey together. This trespass was eventually discovered and condemned. 'This is my space, my own... mine alone,' he shouted. 'There is nothing I have hidden here, no mementos of betrayal to you are stored. Just a place that is for me only.'  And right after that sentence ended she thought – not of the various conspiracy theories and probable reasons for that 'space' but about the existence or the lack of one such