Walking the extra mile.....

Whether it is an assignemnet or a deal that needs to be closed or a simple issue of letting someone know what they mean to us, putting in the extra effort to make things different what matters sometimes.

6.10 Am ( A work of fiction)

Its cold and I am in the middle of a dream. Days of insomnia has deprived me of sound sleep.Every day was like a formless white mass mottled with dots of incoherent events; a tie-and-die piece of art by a four year old.Prozac.Racy tunes from latest bollywood hits.An incessant stream of thoughts. Splenda falvored icecreams.Buttery rich popcorn.Coffee from the gas station.Pretty much that seemed to define me.Me.I.Why was I labelling this unfathomable me with a single alphabet "I"?I had moved from Chennai to Stockholm to Auburn. The world was presenting me with fewer and fewer options.To move.To redefine.To be born again.From death to life.

"Good Morning,Mom"
"Good morning Kanna"
Thats how my Mom calls me.
"Mom,how is Dad?"
"He is doing better.The doctors are planning to discharge him tomorrow"
"Good.Good.So are you fine with funds?"
"Kanna,I shall manage it somehow.Dont worry"
I make a mental note to visit Western Union within the next few hours.
"Mom,Yashoda Aunty will not live for long".Tears cloud my eyes.I know its is dark and nobody will be able to see me crying seated on the steps on the third floor.I had started favoring the spot after I had moved in with Dinakar.I could see the stop sign ahead on the road.The construction which was coming up.The occasional car or two which passed through the street.