Tag Archives: fiction

A to z challenge : Adventure

by

she got it wrong,

the free bird reminded her-

money never goes high.

Sheela sat at her desk , looking out of the window. She could see the sun set in far horizon and the birds return home. she wished she could return home too. Then very slowly , she turned to look at the laptop screen where the Outlook showed a whole lot of emails awaiting her reply. She knew it would be another long day. Or night, she laughed to herself , hearing the office go silent.

If only she had listened to her heart to go on that adventure with him. That unplanned vacation he had so excitedly asked her to take with him. The trip he finally went alone and both of them missed each other so much. Just then, he called her and she made a mental note to join him over weekend, wherever he was and not to return for another week.

The pending work did not make her sad anymore.

She was finally let her heart win over her head.

And she felt lot better after a long time.

==

Inspired by the theme at

The need

by

In unknown lands that do not feel that way , She sat wondering about herself and what led her here. He paced in the room without reason, occasionally looking at her and nodding in approval. He knew not why he was there with her, more importantly, why she chose to bring him along on this journey.She smiled at him, as if reading his thoughts. He finally gave up all his thoughts and joined her in bed. Collecting her in his arms, he kissed her forehead.

“This is perfect.” she whispered to herself.

“you really think so ? You do not even know me” he laughed lightly and hugged her close.

“I know your words , and my words know you.”

” One can not live off words these days”

“Can you not ?” , she asked with disbelief.

“You look determined to prove me wrong”

“We’ll make believe we never needed any more than words”

“or this” he finished her sentence, like they been doing from last few months.

“yes, we only need us and our words”.

He smiled at her grin. She grinned further finding the love in his eyes.

–

 

For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Cheney challenged me with “We’ll make believe we never needed any more than this.” and I challenged Steffani with “will the room cease to exist, if there was no wall ? Or will it become a larger room. Will he like that, I wonder”

Obsessions

by

He was used to run from love and the person of attention since he could never make space for anyone except himself in his life. It takes a lot more than conviction to stand in front of some one and make promises that are supposed to last.

She never expected him to stay but neither to leave like this – without reason or time. she had hoped the pain will fade with passing time,she and her life will take turns looking at the positive side of the break up.

They were both right and as much wrong. Their rigidity with the ideologies kept them apart forever but  never out of each other’s hearts.

It was not a happy end as you can imagine, and that specially made them proud of themselves.

like seasons around you,
let your mind differ from heart’s words
rest your obsessions

 

Prompted @ Creative Copy challenge  and Haiku Heights

 

She and him : Story#1

by

All she could remember was the smile he had given her when they first met across the smoky screens. And of course the nick name – Tamanna ,meaning  desire. She loved  it as much as she was close to him. And now, she had finally left him long behind in her life. Was she really so away from him, she wondered as she looked at her reflection in the window.

With such thoughts still floating in her head,she left the bed and opened the window.It opened to the view of mountains, and she smiled at the knowledge that he would have loved the view. Then she turned her attention to other important tasks of the day -  setting up the kitchen, unpacking the boxes and filling her bedroom. Other rooms were already furnished and decorated as part of the deal she made with the previous owners.

Once all was done, she opened the bag full of his memories  – his diary where he first confessed his love for her , his favorite pillow that still carried scent of his tears, his box of candies and his favorite pink socks. Now that she had managed to have him dead and buried in the operation theater, or as others would say, he had sacrificed to let her live instead,she could be herself, not the forced himself ! She smiled. It was a tough decision for him. but they had made it through the transition.It was worthy to be one , rather than die accommodating two in the same body.He was happy too, she knew, wherever he chose to be.

Winning Shot

by

When he awoke, he had the weird feeling,something was missing. More evident problem was that he did not know what was missing. Or from where. He looked around the room to take a loud inventory – the things could be counted on finger tips easily. Then as he saw the heavy locked door, he laughed to himself. It was impossible to steal anything till that door stood its place.

He ignored the feeling and walked to the breakfast table grabbing a beer in one hand and his camera in the other. He liked all the shots from the last evening’s trip to the river side park. Just liked. and he understood, what he missed. One of the shots troubled him. It would have been a perfect capture ,Only if the girl had not turned her face at the last moment and glared at him. So what if it was a cliche shot , he had waited half an hour for some kids to pass that section of the path.and the branches had to be covered so that they did not overlap with the shadows. He took one hard look at the pic and emailed it to the magazine for the contest. He badly needed to win, not to survive but to sponser his college fee. He finished the beer thinking of his days when he would be studying photography and not just using it for a living.

Next day , a couple turned up on his door steps, the magazine in the lady’s hand was open on the page that had shown the pic he had shot. Without any formalities, the lady asked him “where was this pic taken?”
“In the park behind this building”, he told without any question though he had some.
“And the girl ?” the man asked.
“She was with the people in the pic. Might be a part of the family”, he said a little defensively.
“She is my daughter”, the lady yelled.

And with that she ran towards the park. The man muttered a thanks and followed her.

He could not contain his curiosity and ran behind them. The couple was calling the girl with her name and looking frantically all around. They did not have to go far when from behind a bush, the girl came running forward. She was bouncing with joy as the lady bent to take her in her arms.

He stood there, not sure what to do or say, so he silently returned to his room.

That weekend, he received an envelop that contained a cut out of the pic and the story about how it had helped a couple find their lost daughter.

The story won his shot the votes and the contest.

 

Prompted @ Inspiration Monday and Sunday Picture Press

Night of horror

by

She stood in the terrace of her tower and smiled at her sinful creation; her son from the devil , the lover of death, worse than she wanted him to be. And that made her feel so powerful. she hummed to herself and bounced from one brewing pot to another. He stood in the corner , watching her mix the ancient potions for him , his blood lust making him even more sinister, his lover waiting at the door steps to embrace other mortals.

A night of horror awaited the city.

This was the train of his desire, he knew. but how to convince her to let him board it, he mused.
Standing on the platform with him, she knew how badly he wanted to be on the train, only if she gave the slightest nod with her slender neck.

They both saw the train enter the platform , people getting in and out of it; she saw his restless fingers struggle to come out of his jeans pocket and touch some one;he saw her expressionless eyes scan the crowd around them and tilt her nhead in disapproval. Suddenly her eyes turned cold and dark, she turned to him and said in a haunting voice, “The next train will be your reward, if you can stay still till the arrival.”

He dare not move after that , till the next whistle filled the station. The next train arrived – full of people of all ages. The smiles hurt his head like hammers, the hugs and kisses were nothing but a blur to him as he was let free finally, to mingle in the crowd, to bruise some , grope others for fun,push a few over excited kids and mark the cosen ones to be dealt with later.

That night , death knocked on those doors behind which hid the marked humans.He sat and watched them twist and turn in dreams at his will. He laughed when they screamed, and kissed them goodbye as his poisonous fangs went red with their blood. These were the purest of souls he fed upon, the ones that made him more like the devil with each soul he sucked.
  Tomorrow another train will change some more lives.

–

Prompted @ Monday Inspiration and Sunday Picture Press

The golden tree

by

He knew it was not just a dream. He tried hard but could not shake the feeling, he was being called to trace his destiny. And he heeded to the call of his heart. Weeks of walking through strange lands with uncomprehensiblee forces guiding his, he finally stood in front of the tree – tired and excited both. But when he actually saw it, he could not believe his own eyes – colors dripping from each branch, each leaf , golden flowers falling in spirals all around. he felt like a misfit there in his dirty brown coat and yellow umbrella. He fumbled a bit with the umbrella before closing it and stretching his hands into the waters that poured just over the tree. He knew his life would cease behind the curtain of color drops.with a glance at the surroundings, he finally stepped inside the tree’s shade. the faint golden glow of the flowers gave it a mystical look.

And then he noticed him, an old man scribbling away in deep thought on what looked liked tiny roll of translucent paper. without looking at the visitor, the old man ordered him to collect the inked rolls and load into dream wagon,whatever it meant.He followed the orders as if he had been doing that all his life,and waited for the next order.He belonged here – in this lost world of peace and words.He could hear the echoes of unknown voices around him – the banter , the disappointments , the smiling words , the sarcastic ones of skepticism. Hours passed like this , he rooted to same spot, hearing those voices and being a part of the emotions.

Finally the old man got up from his desk, and looked at him with interest. “You are still here! i see. You will stay,the place has made you its own”, Saying this, he came forward and handed the silver pen in his hands. He sat down at the same desk like the old man , looked at him once with a dazed look, gave a farewell salute and started filling the “fortune less” fortune cookies with his ideas. The old man faded. Life began anew at the tree of fate.

—

Prompted @ Indigo Spiders , Inspiration Monday , 3ww

Darkness

by

Scribbla again inspired me to write this ! This is a response to his challenge to write a reply to this amazing post of his.

Hi Gilliam,

I was expecting your letter. When I last met you, I had seen the darkness sweeping the boundaries of your village like mist in the night,For I see darkness seperat from night unlike other mortal beings. Surprised ? I guess not. And since you dared to fish the truth this way, let me confirm that I left this child of mine behind in your village. Kerry was not alone. But you will be, I will make sure of that.

Awaiting your next response in action not words !

Yours,

John.

PS : We will meet soon my friend, like I promised you.

 

Image Source

Love in another time

by

Maya fell in love with him the very first time she met him. But she did not know this then. Every time they met , she came more and more impressed with him , his manners , his ideals and his way to live. He was there to help any one who asked , any one who needed but was shy to ask. You just had to tell him about some one in trouble and if he could, he would help. The hours spent talking to him on call , the daily meeting for samosa and tea after college , the movies where he slept throughout, she always looked forward to these moments even if they never were alone. But she lacked the courage to accept that she loved him. Theirs was a group of friends hanging together always, she the most shy of them all but he managed to make her talk. Only he could make her agree to all the stupid plans they made for any free day. But she never realized it. It wasn’t time yet maybe.

Then he proposed her best friend. She had never seen them so happy. And so Maya was happy too. As luck would have it,  the relation lasted less than a month. No reasons asked , no explanations given initially. But he still accepted her calls , talked to her of the day and soon he began to talk of the relation that was , how he wanted it and why it ended. Her best friend resented him talking to Maya and there would be arguments every other day whenever his call came. He cried for weeks – Maya listened patiently. His pain turned into anger – Maya fared through that too. He made work his life – Maya still managed to be there. But still she had no courage to talk to him about herself , about them. She feared rejection. She feared losing the friendship.

And one day he went away for further studies. For few months she still got calls from him, but every time she wanted to say how much she missed him , he talked of her best friend.

Her best friend is married to love of her life . He is lost in folds of time and memories . And Maya is nursing the pain she got for herself.

You are not just a page
in the diary of time I lived
but more like a bookmark
to the time  I lived a lie…

Prompted @ March Challenge [ day 17 - Courage ]  , Theme Thursday [ luck ] , Thursday tale [ image prompt]

The price

by

She dreamed this most nights ; the same scene all nights – she is in a blue room full of white roses. As she bends to smell one , she wishes it was red. She doesnt know why she wants a red rose but she just wants it. and then she moves on to the next rose. After few roses, she realizes its a round room so all she does it smell same flower again and again.

She considers this dream to be a omen in her life of every significant day. And it was a good omen in her life indeed until she went to that rose exhibition. The blue round room had hundred of roses in all possible colours. But it was a white rose she touched and wished it would be red.And she heard a man pass her muttering “Some wishes have heavy price”. she turned to confirm if it was said to her but the guy was lost in the crowd.

Later that night , she had the same dream and when she wished for the rose to be red, the thorns on the rose sprang to life. They pricked her fingers to make them bleed. She cried but the blood did not stop till the rose was red. and then she saw the same guy standing next to her; admiring how beautiful the rose was.

Next day she was found dead with blood dripping out of her fingers and a message scribbled next to her body “I thus pay the price”.

 

 

Prompted @ March challenge (day 12 – Horror) and Thursday Tales ( Image prompt)

His food

by

He was hungry.

Not the usual “I want to eat/read/write/have sex type hungry”
He could have enough of anything he wanted – yeah, even sex too.
Yet, he had the feeling he was hungry. He wanted more.
He wanted ..  Well he did not just know what did he want.
And then he met her – And evetything made sense to him in that moment

He was hungry to be troubled – no one he ever met could make him feel NOT wanted.But her looks did – her arrogance gave him a high , her indifference was his favorite food. Her words of rebuke were his song, her cruel smiles were his reward for persuing her still.

And then she decided to acknowledge his efforts – She went to him and slapped him hard. That night he slept peacefully after weeks.  Next day they went for their first date.

 

(I would have never daredto explore my writing in this direction except for 2 people whom i have lately been reading. This is for you guys. Thanks)

Standing (proud) ?

by

I see a sweet little girl, trying to balance her tiny feet on the sidewalk ; one feet ahead of the next ; holding her fancy dress in her pink fingers. But not for a second do i confuse her with me. I am not her , She is not me. She should not be. Not ’cause i wasn’t this happy and playful when young but ’cause i am not like her today – 20 years later.

I laugh at myself still though knowing well it’s for world’s sake. I curse myself for my mistakes and yet make them again. I live in the pain of lost love and treat it like ecstasy. My words are fueled from the darkness that lurks in my life. The days are brighter than they should be – don’t you know that light turns others blind too ? the nights darker than they could be – i even hide my shadows from myself.

I don’t ever hurt others – its considered a sin ! I betray none, bother none. No one is allowed to love me any more though i seek love from many. I hate just my loneliness as much i enjoy my solitude. I am contradiction that agrees most with my doubts. I am tears in motion, fears that feasts my soul.

I am all this more – And i wonder how i became so ! where is that shy girl gone  ! One who loved just herself and laughed on just her own reflection.

And yet you do not need to worry – I stand tall and proud ! Isn’t what the world thinks i am  !!

I act what you want to see; I do what you will never like to !

.

.

This post was started as prompted at Thursday Tales but the real inspiration came from “Imperfect Prose”. i rarely let my ideas go this way. and am not really sure if i did it well.

.

.

Image Source 1 Image Source 2

The white fairy

by

He woke up late… very late;he two hours late in meeting her. Though he knew she would have slept off by now, he still logged in to the messenger.

“hey !! you there ?”

“m waiting…”

.

.

.

“guess you slept off early…  bye ,, miss you”

“:* >:D<”

The last message was exactly 35 min after the first..

She never was late. she never missed a day to be here. She was so perfect,she appeared to be so for sure ! And he was totally crazy for her. The most talked about flirt of the town was single for the whole month now. Exactly the same time she had been in his life – draped in a white dress, hair covering her face,pink flowers in hands,she stood in a huge window. Little had he realized, it was the window to his heart she knocked.

He smiled as he gathered these thoughts. He was turning into a poet or what, he laughed to himself ! He had not stepped out of his house in the past 1 month. Sleeping, chatting with her, eating, chatting, sleeping again had occupied his time off from work. He must be going insane he mused as he gauged the mess around him.

An hour later as he sat down to rest in his newly cleaned room, he saw her come online.

“Hey, dress your best in 5 min”

“why” he asked confused

“just thought to have a video chat. don’t you wanna look good the first time atleast?”

“you mean i will see you”

“i guess that’s what it means !!”

Finally the “white_fairy” will reveal her face, he was full of smiles thinking about it. As soon he was ready,the bell rang. Cursing the guest, he opened the door wearing a big frown.

And there stood his angel, his “white_fairy” in the same white dress holding the same pink flowers.

Smilingly she entered his heart’s window and closed them shut with a kiss, filling her sunshine in him, his house and his life.