The Broken Remote

The door lock clicked open as Ariv walked back into his silent flat. He walked in with his shoes on and dropped his bag on the floor. He immediately reached for the switchboard and turned on the lights. He stood at the same spot, looking around at his flat that had been left in a mess after he had rushed out horribly for work in the morning.

“Oh man! Was I this messy?” he thought to himself as he stepped toward the couch. He untied his shoes and threw them into a corner.

His mobile buzzed with continuous notifications from work. He noticed a couple of messages tagged ‘@ariv’ in the work group.

It didn’t take long before his brows locked while looking at the home screen. He got up to breathe away from the mobile screen and continued with his chores. He sorted the mess in the hall, placed his clothes in the laundry, served his food hot from the casserole, and sat peacefully.

“Okay! Let’s see, it’s not such a difficult task. We can complete the documentation by tomorrow evening. Well, that will take 3 hours approx... but... but I still have the due work from today. Ugh. I need to include that in my schedule as well,” he spoke to himself as he tried switching off the TV.

He hit the remote against his thighs a couple of times as it irritated him even more. The remote, already wrapped in brown tape, struggled for a long 3–4 minutes before finally turning on the TV. He tried to navigate to a channel, which tested his patience even further. He got stuck on National Geographic, featuring wildlife, in which he had the least interest.

His phone buzzed again, notifying him of an EMI deduction.

“Fuck! I need to pay this. I couldn’t invest in stocks this month either. Where am I going? Why am I unable to plan anything properly? I had it all planned, didn’t I? Where am I going wrong? Why is it not working out? Where is the savings I thought I’d make? Will I be able to finish the deadline? Will I be able to make it to the trip next month?”

As these thoughts ran through his head, his eyes gazed at the sticky note that hung on the wall:

Finish the work by - 17/7/25

Get the RD refund by - 24/7/25. 30k

Book flight tickets by - 26/7/25. 10k

Get the washing machine repaired by - 30/7/25

Invest in Stocks - 5k.

As he zoned out in these thoughts, he was brought back to reality by the doorbell. It was the regular time for his watchman, who came to every flat to collect the garbage.

He irritatedly put his plate of food aside, which felt like it had cooled down ages ago. He walked to the kitchen, took his trash bag, and unlocked the door with the trash in one hand.

“Hieeee!!!!!” screeched Renu in mute excitement, standing at the door.

“Renu? How come you’re here?” Ariv was surprised to see her — a big deal in a long-distance relationship. He let go of the trash bag and pulled her into a hug with one arm around her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair while his other hand still held the trash mid-air.

“Ariv…! How are youuuuu??? Did you like my surprise? I just got my long weekend leave approved and immediately flew to Bangalore for you,” she spoke, still not breaking the hug. She was very sure it had to be Ariv who broke the hug first.

“Tell me. How are you? It’s been so long… six months?” Ariv finally spoke, letting go of the hug.

“Yesssss!!!!!” Renu muttered, her arms still around his neck.

“The lift got renovated, ha?? And and and… you’ve got new neighbours, I see!” Renu noticed the changes.

“Well yeah, the old couple moved in last week.”

“Oh.. they Malayalis?” Renu asked.

“I don’t think so. The nameplate, Chakraborthy! Seems Bengali. Why?”

“I just saw them dancing to a Malayali song that was playing. They looked cute.” Renu smiled.

“Really?? That does sound cute.”

“Hey, you were having your dinner? Go on... I’ll freshen up,” Renu tied her hair up but walked back to the door as it rang again.

“That’s for the trash,” Ariv spoke with food in his mouth.

“I got this. You continue.”

“Ariv Saab???” the watchman spoke hesitantly, confused to see a new lady open the door.

“Guest hoon!” Renu smiled.

“Hey hi! Which class are you in?” she patted the little girl who accompanied her father from house to house.

“3rd!” she said with a serious look.

“Aww… why so serious?” Renu giggled.

“Ariv bhayya is also serious every day,” the little girl replied.

“Shushhh… nahi bolte aise,” the watchman shushed his daughter with a fake smile.

“That’s okay…” Renu smiled as she closed the door.

“So... I have a complaint for you, mister,” Renu continued.

“Why is the so-called Ariv bhayya so serious every day while bringing out the trash? India wants to know… is he really so rude even to an 8-year-old??” Renu grabbed the bottle like a mic as she reported the issue.

“Haha… nothing. It’s just that I’ve been stressed lately. Look…” He pointed at the sticky note.

She noticed the unchecked list still hanging on the wall.

“That’s okay... come here,” she made space beside him on the couch and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re watching National Geo?? Woah! Since when???” She noticed the channel playing all along and also peeked at the almost broken remote.

“There’s something wrong with the dish connection or probably an issue with the remote. I don’t know. It’s so annoying. I get tired from a long day, sit here with a peaceful meal, and it’s irritating that I can’t even watch something fun. And I don’t blame that child either. It’s exactly at such times the bell rings. And maybe… maybe my face shows it sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Really?” Renu chuckled.

Renu moved down to the floor to unpack her huge backpack stuffed with fresh food she had brought for Ariv.

“Hey! Here… you asked for this chicken masala my mom makes, right?” She handed him a packet of masala sealed in an airtight ziplock and further taped at the edges for extra safety.

“Wow. You remembered? Thank youuuuuuu!!!!”

“And… I also saw an amazing food station at the airport where everything was being cooked fresh. Literally no preserving.” She grabbed packs of Mysore Pak, Soan Papdi, and Rasgulla.

“Ariv..! Why don’t we go share Rasgulla with your new neighbours? You haven’t introduced yourself yet, have you?” Renu looked excited.

“Um… seems like a good idea. Okay...” Ariv smiled.

They picked up the jar of Rasgulla and rang the bell of the flat that already had its doors open. The signboard with the names “Kamala & Bhaskar Chakraborthy” was engraved on a wooden plate with handmade décor.

“Hello ma’am. I’m Ariv. I live next door. We brought some Rasgulla and thought it would be nice to share it with you,” Ariv spoke as the lady gestured them into the hall. The old couple made space for them to sit on the two tiny wooden stools at the edge of the furniture. Ariv couldn’t stop but to admire the hand-crafted interior they had. It looked like they had the air of Kolkata in every corner. Starting from the furniture, the artifacts to their accents and clothing.

“Ow Roshgulla??” Bhaskar smiled as he took the jar into his hands.

“No place can match the taste of Kolkata, you know? I’ll get you kids a pack the next time I visit,” Kamala said as she examined the package.

“Definitely,” Renu smiled back.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Bhaskar eyed Ariv with a smirk and patted him on the shoulder. Ariv chuckled back, confirming the guess.

“But it’s nice to know you guys have moved to Bangalore,” Renu kept the conversation going.

“Yeah… had to. Most of our relatives have settled here in Bangalore, so we decided we would too,” Bhaskar replied, gesturing animatedly as he adjusted his thick black frames in between.

“And… it’s surprising to know that you speak Malayalam also, uncle??” Renu dug in.

“Malayalam?? Who speaks?” Bhaskar burst into laughter.

“I... I kind of noticed you both listening to a Malayalam song when I was entering,” Renu spoke hesitantly still sticking on to the smile.

“Then you must have also seen us dance to it,” Bhaskar laughed while Kamala blushed slightly.

“Hah… kind of…” Renu gave a doubtful smile, still interested to know the story.

“Have you looked at our TV?” Kamala pointed.

There stood a TV that clearly didn’t belong to the present day. In fact, it stood as an antique piece in their hall, dating back to the early 2000s—the huge back, the bulged bent screen, and the physical buttons under the monitor.

“Woah… you guys still use it?” Ariv looked surprised.

“Of course. But the problem is, you don’t get the remote for this model in the market anymore. So, we just switch it on and vibe along to whatever plays,” Bhaskar replied.

“That’s great. Really interesting to know,” Renu said, her brows raised in excitement.

“Wait… let me open this jar. Let’s have a few Roshgulla,” Kamala suggested.

“No ma’am, it’s for you. Please keep it. We’ll see you around,” Ariv shook hands with Bhaskar and made their way back home.

“They were so adorable, right…” Renu said as Ariv unlocked their door.

He stepped in and tried switching the channel one last time. It shifted to a cricket match preview from National Geo.

“See, that’s the problem...” Ariv knocked the remote against the table again.

“Just stop… relax,” Renu took the remote from his hands.

She took a few seconds to understand that Ariv’s mood was not only about the remote but also the list of undone things on the sticky note.

“Hey... sit here! Tell me, what is it?” Renu asked, comforting him as she took his hands in hers.

“It’s just that nothing is going as I planned. Literally nothing. I feel like I’m unable to control the things happening around me even when I’m trying. I know there’s no real loss right now. But I didn’t plan to be like this today. Today was supposed to be fun, today was supposed to be sorted. I had it all planned, but I don’t know where my finances went wrong or where my due dates slipped. I wasn’t able to step up to what I had planned,” Ariv burst it all out.

“I understand. But you did come a long way, Ariv. It’s fine if things don’t go as we plan,” Renu said, listening with patience.

“Life can’t always be planned, Ariv. It sometimes doesn’t go the way we planned. Just like… just like this remote.” She giggled.

“Right…” Ariv smiled back.

“But we still can have fun…” Renu took the remote in her hands and threw it to the floor. The batteries popped out.

“Come on. Let’s follow Komala and Bhoskor!! Lets loose the remote, Lets loose the controls. Let the universe click the buttons on the remote” Renu mimicked their accents.

“What do you mean?” Before Ariv could ask anything, Renu handed him a plate she picked from the dining table and made a paper ball from a lying-around newspaper. She matched the cricket commentary with her serious expressions and bowled it at him from one corner of the hall.

The muted, childlike game turned into a fun time in no time, where both were deeply absorbed in their characters. Ariv let out a heartfelt laugh—something he hadn’t done in a while. The heaviness in his chest lightened as he matched Renu’s energy, swinging the plate like a bat with mock intensity.

Their laughter echoed through the hall, drowning out the silence that had settled between them earlier. For a few precious moments, nothing else mattered—not the plans gone astray, not the weight of expectations—just the joy of being present, silly, and together.

As they finally collapsed on the floor, breathless and smiling, Ariv looked at Renu, his eyes soft with gratitude.

“Thanks for reminding me… that not everything needs fixing. Some things just need feeling,” he said holding her softly and landing a peck on her lips.