<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>Chaitanya&#039;s OWN &#187; Total TP</title>
	<atom:link href="http://www.chaitanyasblog.com/tag/total-tp/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://www.chaitanyasblog.com</link>
	<description>Opinions Works News</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Mon, 06 Feb 2012 14:28:12 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<language>en</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1</generator>
		<item>
		<title>Cold november</title>
		<link>http://www.chaitanyasblog.com/works/cold-november/</link>
		<comments>http://www.chaitanyasblog.com/works/cold-november/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 11 Nov 2009 12:02:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chaitanya Reddy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Works]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Total TP]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.chaitanyasblog.com/?p=998</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[It was the eleventh of November, I had taken a personal day to finish all the pending house work. The weather was messed up, humid from rains and cold from the approaching winter. I poured myself a cup of instant soup and settled for the TV news hour. It was around the time when the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>It was the eleventh of November, I had taken a personal day to finish all the pending house work. The weather was messed up, humid from rains and cold from the approaching winter.</p>
<p>I poured myself a cup of instant soup and settled for the TV news hour. It was around the time when the reader was summing the news in headlines that the home land-line rang- a ring that had lost its familiarity.</p>
<p>I almost left the ring die, but curiosity got the better of me- who could possibly have called me on this number?</p>
<p>&#8220;Hello&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Hello&#8221; &#8211; a soft voice, female, almost like mine a year ago.</p>
<p>&#8220;Yes&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Ma&#8217;am, could I talk to you for a few minutes&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Regarding?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I have been told to contact you in case of any queries&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Queries regarding what?&#8221;, I wondered out loud.</p>
<p>&#8220;Well I was told that I could ask you anything.&#8221;</p>
<p>I wasn&#8217;t quite sure who this lady was, what she wanted or where did she get my number. But, with the soup all cold and the next re-run of hourly news fifteen minutes away I settled into a conversation with the young lady.</p>
<p>&#8220;Can I call you again? &#8221; she asked after 10 mins of chatting.</p>
<p>&#8220;Sure&#8221;</p>
<p>The call was over just as quickly as it had started.</p>
<p>I got back to watching the re-run of the news and thinking. Who was she and why did I tell her so much?</p>
<p>Something interrupts my thoughts, I wake up with a start &#8211; the monotone ring of the land-line calling out aloud. It has to be her.</p>
<p>&#8220;Hi,  it&#8217;s me again&#8221;   she sounds different this time. I cannot pin it but somethings shifted in her, or maybe somethings shifted in me.</p>
<p>&#8220;Yeah, tell me&#8221; &#8211; I ignore my thoughts.</p>
<p>&#8220;Just a few more details&#8221;</p>
<p>I let her ask and answer what I can, no big deal.</p>
<p>My thoughts are interrupted yet again, with songs of U2, its my mobile phone and it&#8217;s him calling.</p>
<p>&#8220;Hey, sup?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8221; <img src='http://www.chaitanyasblog.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' />  Hey, forgot my cell at home, will swing by to pick it up.&#8221;</p>
<p>We hang up. How much everything has changed, in a blink of a year.</p>
<p>Tring. Tring. The land-line again.</p>
<p>&#8220;Hello&#8221;  I say.</p>
<p>&#8220;Hi, you hung up?!!&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Uh Oh, got another call..sorry&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Who was it ?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Him&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Tell me about him&#8221;</p>
<p>I tell her, everything from the start to the final call today, that&#8217;s all she wants to know so I hang up.</p>
<p>The day has been moving fast, no work&#8217;s done and it is already 5 p.m. I start to open my office mail to reply to any priority  mails, just then the phone rings.</p>
<p>Her, again. She is beginning to annoy me.</p>
<p>&#8220;Yes?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I want to know more &#8221;</p>
<p>I instinctively bring him up, we chat &#8211; sharing details.I hang up.</p>
<p>I think again, how much has changed from the beginning of the year to now. From thinking of me to thinking mostly about you.</p>
<p>The phone rings again, almost immediately. It&#8217;s her.</p>
<p>But, I know it isn&#8217;t me answering it anymore. Nor does he answer the call.</p>
<p>The shift is palpable, perceivable to me alone.</p>
<p>It is me who has shifted, shifted enough to see that I am not me anymore. I am just what remains to fade into you.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://www.chaitanyasblog.com/works/cold-november/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>

