Tag Archives: stories

Toothpick – #25WordStory.

Toothpick.


She picked up the toothpick to dot her forehead with white. She was a bride in the film, while her own marriage was falling apart.


bengali-bridal-makeup-with-being-fair

Graciously Yours!

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The House That Wasn’t.

dark_ancient_house_by_sand3rr“What is it that is stopping you?” she asked. “Come on in! I am sure the place isn’t haunted.”

He stepped in. His torch was slipping from his hands due to sweat. In the eerie silence of the house, the buzzing quiet of the night outside seemed favorable. All those stories he’s heard in his life of 19 years came back to haunt him.

“Will you even move?” his girlfriend whispered.

“How did she even manage to get the keys?” he wondered. He took his first step forward and his shoes clicked louder than ever. Coherent thoughts were giving way to fear again.

“Couldn’t you wear sports shoes or rubber slippers?” she whispered angrily.

“Well, you never told me you’re going house hunting today,” he retorted, scared of his own foot step.

“Take your shoes off,” she said, “or you’ll scare the ghosts away!”

“I am not going to do that,” he said.

“Fine. Then try and be less noisy,” she said with gritted teeth.

“If you could be less nosy,” he mumbled under his breath.

She held him by the wrist and walked around. The furniture was strewn all across the floor. Cobwebs shone into the torch light, dancing around him. The musty smell of the place was getting on to him. He spotted a cracked mirror hanging on the wall ahead. He averted his eyes lest he saw something he wasn’t meant to.

She kept talking to him but not one word got through to his conscious. His mind had its own set of defenses in place. His body was tense and alert. She stepped on to broken glass. His scared jump had a feline touch. She laughed at his reaction. Her laugh echoed in the house. It was scary. It wasn’t the laugh he had fallen in love with.

Soon he’d know why. She had stopped laughing but the house hadn’t.

Fear crept in her eyes too.

Continued…

Graciously Yours!

Picture Courtesy : Pinterest.

Why? Oh why?

city-lights-at-nigh

Often, things don’t make sense. Why does the Sun rise every day to set? Why do the flowers bloom only to be plucked by mischievous little bratty hands or to be offered at the feet of stone idols of the same Gods who created them in the very first place? Why are examinations more valued than the lives of those hundreds of young who succumb under their pressure? Why is a job position much greater than a friendship you’ve nurtured for years? Why is the money more important than the ailing parents you’ve left behind? Why is it selfish to love oneself and idiotic to love others (either ways, I’m slandered)? Why do we run after fame when oblivion is all that destiny can give us? Why is immortality a boon when you know all others around you will die? Oh and why we do we bake those immaculately beautiful and fabulous personalized cakes only to dismantle and eat them within a day or two?

I’ve diverted enough from what I really want to say out loud (or in this case, write).

Why do I hate loving you?

Often, things don’t make sense. And this is just the beginning of it.

Graciously Yours!

Image by 4freephotos.com

Sacrifice.

In the One Word – Many Moments Flash Fiction series,

Previous Word : Rain.

Brother Sister

She was bawling! He tried asking her what happened. Their mother shushed him.

“This is for you, Mary. You only get to play with this,” the mother said to her crying child.

“What happened, Mom?”

“She wants the train your Daddy bought for you.”

“Oh! I’ll get it for her. Wait.”

“No. She’ll play with her doll. Or else she’ll break both toys by tomorrow!”

“But she’s crying!”

“Let her cry. I’ll get her milk. You go and play with your train. Your friend is waiting for you,” the mother walked away, patting the boy on the head.

Quietly, he went into his room, picked up the train much to his friend’s surprise, and went and gave it to his step-sister.

“There you go!” he said, placing a peck on the three year old’s cheek, who miraculously stopped crying immediately!

***

Police

“This time we’ll go to the fair together!” he told his son, placing him on his shoulder and walking around in the house looking for his wife.

“Maa! Maa! Papa’s back!” the child shouted excitedly.

“What happened?” asked the mother as she came out hurrying from the bathroom, soap suds on arms and a semi-washed towel in hand!

“We are going to the fair together this time! I got my leave from office,” a smiling husband told his wife.

The next morning, the little kid heard his parents talking. The police force required more personnel. The father’s leave had been cancelled. They didn’t know how to break it to the son.

“Papa, we’ll meet you at the fair. And then you can buy me an ice cream,” the kid said, boldly walking in to the room.

Tears welled up in two pairs of eyes.

***

Dogs

Finally, a customer entered. She greeted the person with a bright smile!

“Would you by any chance have change worth Rs. 500?” he asked, extending a note of the same denomination.

Her face fell! She barely had 250 bucks in her cash counter! Her shop was running at a pace slower than a snail’s. She politely turned down his request. Murmuring not so kind words, he left the shop.

Soon enough she heard the dog whimper outside. Taking that as cue for her lunch hour, like everyday she divided her lunch into two equal halves. Keeping her part aside, she went and served the rest to the old street dog lying on her spare ‘WELCOME’ door mat by the side of the shop.

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : The sacrifices made silently are the ones most worthy of applause, because they are least driven by it!

Rain.

Previous Word : Fire.

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As she walked out of her office, she was greeted by a gust of wind! She took her ear phones out to hear windows rattling and dust sweeping across. She needed to cool off after a long, bad day! A drop of water fell on her cheek. She saw a cab slow down. Her place was ten minutes away. She decided to walk down today.

He didn’t like rains. But he had to be home on time today. He and his umbrella were walking down the road in search of transport. The strong winds shook the umbrella like a leaf. Once. Twice. Thrice. By then the umbrella was useless and he was already wet. Disgusted, he folded his umbrella and kept walking down the ankle deep water. A car passing by at full speed on the pothole riled road sprayed dirty, brown water over him! He hated the rains.

Her boyfriend was working late tonight. She was home alone. She loved water. Sitting by the open window, sipping her coffee she felt the water droplets sprinkle across her face. The rain kept picking up pace. A lightning streak lit up the sky. It was followed by a thunder as strong! She shuddered. Pulling the curtains across the window, she went into her room to get her book and ear plugs.

He shivered with cold. The wind was getting colder. His skin was getting hotter. The tattered blanket he had was barely helping. The lights from the portico of the hotel nearby were inviting. He started dragging himself towards the hotel. There were cars coming in. The guards shooed him away. They wouldn’t even let him sit on the marble floor. He sat on the footpath, shivering, rain now seeping through his matted, unkempt hair.

Graciously Yours!