Sony Music Entertainment, You utter bellend!

Everybody was listening to the songs and raving about how great they were. He didn't think much of them, to be honest. The singer was rubbish, and all of the songs from that genre sounded the same to him. But you know how peer pressure works. And in just a moment of weakness, he clicked on the youtube link to the video. Finally he would find out what the fuss was all about.

The page began to load. The youtube logo appeared at first. By then he had begun to have second thoughts. Should he really? Was he so weak? But it was too late. The page loaded. The video was "blocked in his country on copyright grounds".

He heaved a sigh of relief.

The Twist

Theirs was another whirlwind college romance. They bunked all the classes they could without getting into trouble and spent time together. Holding hands, just talking endlessly, sharing an ipod, sharing ice creams, sharing milkshakes and sharing cigarettes. They also shared a passion for Night Shyamalan movies. They loved the director's convoluted narration, and drank in every twist in the tale with great enthusiasm. And their romance was intensive. Like the course they both took in college. Lasted all of two years. Before his father found out about her, and disapproved immediately. He had no desire to see all of his ancestral property in the control of a tempestuous (they invariably were, with their multi-coloured "bobcuts") young woman with a facial piercing. And so he put a stop to this nonsense immediately. He was sent away to live with an aunt in Australia and do a post graduation in something or the other, just to distract him. Life continued for her, as it inevitably does for everyone, and she went on to get a mediocre job in a mediocre company for a mediocre pay. They lost touch after a while, although both of them in their individual minds knew there would be a twist in their tale, just like in their favourite director's movies. She dreamt he would swoop down from nowhere and they'd elope. He dreamed of (nearly, as nearly as soulmates would think)the same thing.

Five years later, she saw him in a mall, with a not-unattractive young lady, pushing a baby-laden pram. She had paused for more than a moment mid-conversation with her friends as she saw him, and they asked her if something was the matter. She shrugged it off and said she had just seen someone she thought she knew.

The Jump! to a conclusion

Mrs Rajam saw her only for a couple of seconds. A perfunctory glance. From her living room window, across the alley to No 4, Thangam apartments. And like all women(but only women) can manage, she noticed a few thousand details in a span of a few seconds. The young woman stood in her kitchen, wiping her tears with her saree repeatedly. They just wouldn't stop coming. She had observed the (presumably) newly wedded couple move in a few days back. They had moved in with an old fashioned cot, a few steel bureaus, a television stand, a television, a moderately sized refrigerator and miscellaneous pots and pans. Her housemaid worked for them as well, though. And she had told Mrs Rajam that they were standard fare, newly married, nothing special. She was impressed that the wife chose to stay at home and mind the house, rather than go to work in some computer company and spend hours sitting at a desk and staring at a screen. Housework helped a young wife to maintain her health and her figure, opined her maid. This impressed Mrs Rajam, and contributed towards the sympathy she felt today, for the young woman across the alley. She wondered for a few minutes, about what could have caused her tears. A fight with her new husband perhaps? She wanted to reach out and say, Its all going to be okay. He will come back and beg your forgiveness. And you will pretend to be hurt and angry for a while, but will melt into his arms in some time. She prayed to her deities to fix this hard working young woman's problems soon.

Across the alley in No 4, Thangam apartments, Aparna was oblivious to Mrs Rajam's observations and thoughts about her. Chop chop chop chop chop chop, her hands worked the knife on the onions like she had been doing this for years, when in fact, she had begun cooking only a couple of weeks ago. That, perhaps explained the stubborn tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the counter. Her husband would be home soon, and he'd be delighted that she had made the sambar the way he always liked. Full of onions. She smiled to herself quietly as she remembered the message he had sent her during his lunch.