Showing posts with label Flash Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flash Fiction. Show all posts
July 31, 2011

Strange Worlds

  Based on a fantasy short story I wrote some years ago but left halfway




The clock chimed 12....all eyes turned to it.


Then a crashing sound from the kitchen snapped everyone's attention... Mother rushed in, almost slipping on the mess on the floor. Meena stood still, with a faraway look in her eyes whilst clutching her left arm. Joy pried away her fingers, watching  in terror and wonder; the dreaded silver words glistening in contrast to her brown skin.
“ Tonight we come” read the words.
 As Joy dragged the compliant girl out of the kitchen, he kept an anxious watch on her.
The family huddled in the small  living room, relatives he had never met stood whispering...older men and women gathered around his great grand mother passing the now yellowing picture around.
Would Tara’s fate be the same as her great grand uncle??...

If pictures could speak, surely it would say a thousand things. Was he alive, could he guide her, would she even meet him and mostly where the hell was he?


 A mystery whose answers weren't even enclosed in a dusty tome, the trembling wrinkled lips which was sworn to secrecy revealing the bare outline.


 For over 600 years, maybe more, every fourth generation, the second oldest child in his family disappeared alone; within, the now in ruins stone temple, on the dawn they turned 16.


The only evidence was an ancient dagger which made its appearance on the very spot they had been, last seen standing, by the rest gathered out of sight, far away in the temple grounds.


Joy had often questioned  the enforced practice.... the constant reply, " The fear of an ancient curse being activated", he openly scoffed at. He was glad he had been born five Min's later but felt for his twin. He had an ace up his sleeve, it all depended on perfect timing..... 










* I didn't know how to end the story...aliens, secret cult, magical world, star gate..... so left it unfinished.
April 28, 2011

Xanthippe Widow




Image courtesy Claude Renault


She stood in the doorway, a creased face, paan stained red lips and a perpetual frown on the face….


A scowl said that I was standing in her way….She grumbled at "today’s kids" and their lack of traditional values….Funny, she should consider a 30 something one…

My friend was irritated at the stooping old woman as she walked fast for her age, despite her cane.
We made our way to the temple, there she was, the one I bumped into…she reprimanded me for not covering my head… I laughed and informed her that in our community only widows of old wore them that way….
Her eyes watered and she slunk away without taking her evening meal, the free Prasadam offered to the devotees.
 I felt guilty, the price of having a nagging voice in the head that enjoyed lecturing to my discomfort.
Back at the cottage I questioned the caretaker about her as she swept the verandah…
Married off at 12, send to live with her in-laws and absentee husband at 14, widowed at 17, the childless, now, 70 year old thrown out of her marital home a year later for being unlucky…Vrindavan had been her haven for the past five decades…
Doing odd jobs, eating at temples, spending the night at the cottage premises…she had it lucky than many others out in the temple town or other places…
Time and people had made her what she was today….and yet she blamed no one but her bad karma for a life without a husband… ironic that mine was alive and yet not a part of my life anymore and nobody seemed (well who am I kidding) bothered by it.
Life for a poor widow in rural India is often a nightmare…the woman’s life marked by the father, husband and then son…she on her own had no voice, no freedom, no rights, no dreams, no hopes…
Long after I boarded the train back to the safety of my home…her face and her story haunted my thoughts….till today…hopefully, the voice won’t nag me about her anymore….


*Xanthippe : nagging, peevish, ill - tempered woman
 344 words to be made into 500
April 22, 2011

Silly Story - Cat Tales - 1




He slouched lazily on the loft looking haughtily at the customers, visitors and owners alike . He declared himself almost bored, when he saw her....aah...he thought, straightening up, finally some one to impress and end the day on a  high note. He got up, swished his tail, stretched himself to his magnificient length and wiggled around to rid himself of all the dust and dirt...Walked all the way to the end in a manner that would put ramp models of Paris out of work. He stood at the edge, gazing at the rafter a few feet away with one critical eye, the other on her....yes, her attention was still on him. That's all he needed...he jumped James Bond style (making Sir Sean Connery proud, if only he knew), he would never reveal but for a second before his paws felt solid wood, he was scared shitless. She was watching in awe....and his chest puffed with pride. He stood planning his next stunt to floor her completely, when her attention was diverted to the task at hand. He waited patiently for her to look up but it seemed like he was forgotten. 'Hmmph, I'll show her still', with this thought he jumped without hesitation, over 5 feet to land with a loud thud on cartons near her. She was startled, and turned to her side to find him next to her, a proud stance, a smirk, a look which said, "A perfect shot, won't you say?".  Before she could stage a witty comeback, he leapt of the cartons, slunk away (some would say in his wild cousin cheetah’s style) with a true blue Cheshire grin, never glancing back...Leaving her to rue not taking a picture....but pray, who ventures into the friendly neighbourhood fruit vendor's shop with a digital camera in tow!!!!



(P.S. don't even mention your mighty IPhones & Blackberry's...their picture clarity and quality is nowhere near even the modest of Digi's. )




April 05, 2011

Dutiful Daughter And Wife


She seemed out of spirits...the normally bouncy 24 yr old wore a pensive look. Even her favourite niece’s antics couldn’t erase the sadness etched on her face.


She didn’t pry, not her nature but sensed something amiss. She would ensure that these two weeks brought her sister’s old self back. Sure enough, by the end of the fortnight Kaveri seemed reluctant to go back....
The sisters had been close in childhood but the last 3 years had seen them drift apart.
Marriage, motherhood and living far away had made her unaware of certain things back home, not totally oblivious.
 Shifting back to childhood city seemed perfect at the moment. The first few days went in settling her children into a new environment, summer holidays and half a dozen cousins scampering around made things easier. She and her husband had just picked out a small but beautiful apartment...the advance paid, he was awaiting the loan clearance from the bank he worked in, they would be moving into their dream home within a month or two. Her happiness overshadowed by the vibes around the family dinner.
She questioned her elder sisters.....the answers saddened her and her husband deeply. So much had happened in the time they had been away. Her father’s ancestral home was heavily mortgaged. His brothers withdrawing their capital from their small wholesale firm, competition, manufacturers’ misgivings and rising debts meant he would soon be bankrupt. Unable to sell the ancient home to modern buyers, Kaveri’s marriage alliances drying up as a result.
They mulled over it for a month....the loan approval bringing little joy. Her husband loved her father to the point of adoration, losing his own at a tender age may have had something to do with it. He wanted to help but how....until Kalpana had a brainwave. They decided to postpone their dream and pay for the wedding instead (Indian weddings being costly affairs hosted by the bride’s family)...
The only glitch, her mother would never agree....Suresh decided on something better, buy off the ancestral home where they could live together with her parents and his mother. He wanted a big house of his own, having been at the mercy of relatives for the first 15 years of his life. She was reluctant as the aging home was more trouble than worth, feeling the first option to be the best, besides her brother’s wife was a vile woman she preferred to stay away from....
His mind made, nothing she said would sway him...the home changed hands, the marriage happened as planned.....things were bad from day one...crumbling interiors and exteriors that ate all their savings and a sister in law who made live hell in their own home. She never thought of making her brother leave, she loved him too much, his handicap rendering his earning capacity limited.
 Two year later when her husband got transferred, relief coursed through her veins...in a new city, another rented home, watching her nine and seven year old sleep...often she wondered if her notion of love and duty hadn’t stolen their dreams away.

 Count 512
April 01, 2011

Achievers - The Conference



She would be the only one missing. Her achievements, an inspiration for countless girls with stars in their eyes. Though this hasn’t been her home for decades now, it was proud of her. Her parents recalled the last phone call, excitement in her voice at her dream turning reality. The thrill of a journey into space would never be negated by the stark fact that it was a one way trip, a fiery end despite the glory.

The reports were very encouraging, the schedule hectic. Time wasn’t always available, it had to be created. The humble beginnings seemed like eons ago. Her biotech company growing rapidly over the years, profits exponential. Many considered her a strict task master but there were no room for mistakes in their field. Her USP still was nurturing talented women and rewarding them generously with stocks for their efforts. She looked forward to rubbing shoulders with like minded women.

The dance academy was chock a block with new and old students. It had taken 30years of dedication, lack of funding, bottlenecks before the doors had opened. She had revived the classical dance form that had faced the threat of extinction. The danger still existed with the younger generations shunning it. For now, the light at the end of the tunnel looked bright enough to plod on. She smiled at her assistant – her sister who had been around for most of her journey....they would most definitely be there to share their incredible journey.


The medal stood out in the tiny room. The visitors still trickled along from nearby areas. The spotlight was something her family was getting used to. Her father, a cab driver had never understood her obsession with rifle shooting. His income barely enough to feed the family of 6. For a small town, traditional man, he never stopped her, a gift in itself. Her mother encouraged her to never give up, specially, when she ran out of generous friends who helped her along the way. She had been lucky, a politician's wife had happened to visit her training ground. And seeing her talent, decided to take her under her wings. The rest was history...as she glanced at the card while the official explained about the meeting; she knew that hard work had paid off.

The day passed in a blur...two complicated operations successfully completed, three infertility procedures undertaken...a dozen appointments awaiting her at the clinic. Late lunch again but she was not complaining. The joy of seeing red faced howling newborns, the glow on faces of women who had finally got the chance to be mothers made her job so much more rewarding. A brilliant student; still a student she considered herself. Watching her father and aunt at work, she had known where her destiny lay and toiled single mindedly. Marriage having been pushed off the agenda but she never regretted her singledom. The conference would be a welcome break indeed. 
 wc 487

March 18, 2011

The Final Goodbye

   A short Summary : This is a series of stories on "the ordinary women" whose lives are/were interconnected, some more - some less....they are based on one or more events that affected/changed their lives...
The stories are true as far as the plot or gist of the matter go....the wordplay is the author's portrayal....
Apologies to any one who finds her story here.... Unfortunately, this one is mine....



Emo Poem
She paused at the doorstep...looking back at the room  once more. Everything was as she had left it  two months ago....the curtains, the dining table she begged and begged for months and finally got, her favourite couch rich blue with silver trimmings, a favourite with the only three neighbours who passed his test (well most of the time at least).


          The light blue sofa still stood, a mute majestic witness to the torment sessions, mental and emotional, countless endured to the point of a breakdown, the humiliations, the constant put downs that still sent cold shivers down her spine.
         His high pitched voice with a maniac quality echoed in her brain, cold swept all over her, the heart pounding at an inhuman rate...the well recognised  signs of a panic attack. She took deep breathes the way her doctor has taught her, clutched a chair for support and moved to gather her few precious belongings, a culmination of six wasted years.
          Every piece of cloth, a book here, a C.D there, remainders of the few happy moments she had managed to gather and salvage from the wreck that was her marriage. Her bags packed, she glanced at the house for one last time ....
        The house she had tried in vain to make a home but dimly realised now was never hers to begin with. The house now stood for only loss : loss of innocence, loss of her unborn child, loss of hope, loss of dignity, loss of self worth and the greatest loss, one that would haunt her for years to come, loss of the will to live.
       The lift stopped , her and bags deposited to the ground floor, the safety zone...as she turned to hug and wave at her few friends, the only ones that would miss her...never him, never him..
       She saw at last in the afternoon sun....behind her stood the skyscraper tall, looming and lonely ....before her stood her mother and the cab, her ticket to freedom bought at a bitter price.

         She walked with a spring in her step, a tiny smile, a smile none the less that threatened to break out of the gloom, knowing that though the road ahead was not easy, too many battles still to be fought.... He could never hurt
her again.....



Wc 383 to add a 100 odd words.
October 27, 2010

The Outing




They felt that 'maybe she has woken up on the wrong side of the bed'....that would definitely explain her grumpiness and moodiness. Still, they had known her for more than a decade and guessed she was roughing it out. They left her at the food court to finish their shopping, asking her to place their orders . 


She watched them go...felt bad for a lingering moment and started to sulk again...thinking sadly, 'wish I could tell you both'.  'Another bitter fight, will it ever end', she asked none in particular. She placed the orders, got the tokens, grabbed a seat and watched the world around as she waited.


All that she saw were happy faces, couples exchanging sweet looks and notes, kids scampering around, families conversing, teens chatting and giggling away.....'What right does the world have to be suffused in light and joy, when gloom surrounded her', she mused fuming. 


He hadn't even bothered, nothing new there.....still it hurt ....she was a average girl with normal feelings, wasn't she? Not even a rose or a card, forget gifts...It reminded her of other years, times when others never forgot to wish on even silly days made up by Hallmark .....


As she sipped her cappuccino, she went on flashback mode..."her college days, rose day to be specific, as she watched girls swamped with flowers wondering if she would ever get one. Going home to find a letter from her cousin sister with a yellow rose inside with a note :"The rose you never got, the first rose from my new plant", which brought a smile to her face." Nothing's changed was her thought when a beep from her cell shook her off day dreaming.


" Petals once again, wishes you a happy birthday and hopes you liked the flowers" read the text....She stared ahead and laughed inspite of her self and reread the message. When her friends had first asked her about "her day" a week ago, she had kept quiet. On further prodding, she mentioned cooking for six people and spending the evening being forced to watch old films on telivision. She remembered her sister in law having the grace and decency to get her some flowers and a cake....


She gradually noticed a light tap on her shoulder and looked up to see a surly young  teen asking her what her problem was. She blinked in confusion when he went on, "Do we look funny? Why are you staring at us and laughing??". The light bulb light up and she replied meekly, with what she hoped was a friendly smile, a small lie, "I was just laughing over a joke some one passed on, sorry if I offended you " pointing to her cell.... The guy muttered a sad "Oh!! that's okay, my bad" and went off with a disappointed look of one who had missed the golden chance of a mall fight.


'Great, that's all I needed ' she muttered grimly to her friends who had returned  and stared after the boy, in shock. She narrated the thrilling story over their lunch . A hearty laugh and a movie later, she was on the way out, back to the grim palace.  But as she hugged and kissed her friends goodbye and clutched the belated gift they had given her, she went with a lighter heart, her grumpiness a thing of the past. 


Wc 564 to make 713 i e  149 more



October 10, 2010

A Forgotten Loss





She has been nagging me for quite some time now, hovering over my keyboard and stating over and over again that this series will be incomplete without her little tale.


 "Hamsini" (literally meaning swanlike) was a pretty child who grow up to be an extraordinarily beautiful girl.


 They say back home, " Too much beauty is a curse", in her case, coupled with her mother's pride and her own vanity and naivety, it turned out just that.


As said before, wherever she went , she garnered attention, not surprisingly, at her workplace too. Fresh from college, little did she know,her first stint, as a secretary in a private firm would take her through a roller-coaster ride, through dizzying heights of love to plunging depths of betrayal and shame.


A month in her new job, she met a dashing, charmer of a man, her immediate boss transferred from a different city. Mathew was everything she had never encountered before, showed her a world far removed from her traditional one. He was friendly, polite, helpful , intelligent, articulate, sophisticated and she fell, and fell badly. He seemingly reciprocated her feelings, "his love" making her break rules, lie and fight with her elder brother who loved her dearly and not being convinced of Mathew's affections (not to mention the 12 yr age difference), clearly disapproved.


But when has a young, rebellious girl listened to reason. She assured her brother that things would work out and convinced him to keep her secret a little longer. Her life revolved around him - the love of her life and all was well in her paradise for over a year till..... little things began to take a new hue, things she had noticed before but never heeded, like his frequent trips to his "home town", the fact that he never mentioned nor had she met anyone from his family, that he was becoming increasingly secretive, of late the couple of times she called his home, a lady had answered : her queries shrugged off by him as a visiting relative. 


One day, the camel's back broke, when she saw a lady in his cabin (he was at a client's office) and found out that the lady in question was the one who took his house calls and was (to hear utter shock) ....his wife. their only son studying in a boarding school.  Later that day when she confronted him, he admitted the same, but assured her of his love...he gained her sympathy stating that his was a loveless marriage, his wife basically being his father's choice.


Torn between her love and her guilt (yes, she was human enough to feel for her parents who were blissfully unaware, and for his wife and child). Things went downhill when she was forced to give him an ultimatum to choose between - her or his wife, her family having arranged her marriage against her wishes. He begged for time which she granted him, for she was besotted. He kept stalling for over six months, showings no signs of taking a stand (guess, he was enjoying the best of both worlds). 


 In the end, the decision strangely was taken out of his hands, a visit to the doctor confirming her worst fears.


Caught between a marriage she did not want and the man she loved (who was married and couldn't(wouldn't ?)marry her. fearful of her father's and brother's reactions to how far gone she was, the truth of her seemingly false relation slowly prying on her, she took what seemed the best way out. The last thing she remembered before falling into the black void of unconsciousness was the desperate banging on her door........and then.... utter silence....


  


Her family was shattered in myriad ways - her father never quite getting over her loss and the society's subsequent trail by fire, her mother can't still accept that she is really gone, her brother wallows in regret and guilt for his perceived inaction. The hero of this tale (or conniving, selfish, heartless jerk, in the opinion of many) lost everything - the girl he "loved", his wife and child, his job : the owners frowning on inter-office affairs (bad karma, if you ask me).....But last heard, his wife after more than a decade reconciled with him, yet he is only a shell of his former self, remorse gnawing at him relentlessly....






As she gazes sadly at the words, I find the courage to ask if she regrets her trusting, foolish and selfish behaviour and would have, given a chance lived her life differently.


 She nods her head and says that she wishes to have spared her loved ones the pain, a twinge of guilt for his wife and child, her to-be groom and mainly for her unborn child...but remains silent on HIM. 


My reasoning is that she has long forgiven him and holds herself equally responsible for all she went through as clearly stated in her suicide note, my guess is that she loves him still and would have given up everything to be with him, the coward just had to ask....


Love makes you do strange things, even justify what others perceive as wrongdoing.






Before she departs, she looks at herself in the mirror (don't ask me if its possible) and audibly sighs "Atleast, I am still beautiful."


I overcome the urge to roll my eyes, after all , who am I to deny a ghost who has been 22 years old for more than two decades now (and forever stuck from the looks of it), simple girly pleasures of vanity.


Wc 929 to have 71 words more





October 02, 2010

She Was My Friend




    


  Tears roll down her cheeks as she checks the obituaries...sure enough that smiling face she can never forget staring back at her, sadly accusing,"you never visited". Proof in her hand of the grim reaper and his sadistic taste for young lives...


    The breakfast turns cold, untouched as was dinner the previous night. Her mind taking her to a nostalgic journey more than a decade old. She had just graduated when they met for the first time as interns at their auditing firm.


    She liked her on sight...Nita as she softly remembered.. Nita was different : ambitious, intelligent with no qualms in flaunting it, a dreamer, eccentric even. Maybe that was the reason for the contempt that the other girls held for her. It was part jealousy and part groupism - the odd ones always ignored or mocked.


   Nita spoke of her family, her work, her dreams, her fears...she was just a sweet girl trying to make a mark on the world but when have narrow minds seen a person for what they truly are?


   Audits with her were never boring, intelligent conversation, work, fun, sharing filled the days. Nita was a reflection for all that she stood for and may be that's why they got along so well. When others in the office would ask how she could bear to be seen as friendly with the "weirdo", she simply smiled and replied "Birds of a feather flock together".


   As time went by, as it has for aeons, she moved to other projects, other jobs...they still kept in touch, met occasionally but not as before. Life went on, job, marriage, problems, responsibilities but she still thought of her . They met a few times more, at her marriage as Nita's parents was friends with her in-laws (small world, she had thought back then) and a couple of family functions....and then for quite some years they lost touch completely...


   She looked at the damp paper, thinking of the bear hug and the huge infectious grin with which Nita greeted her(the surprise element at her wedding) and between guilt ridden sobs wished she had reached out to her when Nita had been on dialysis (she had never known, the secret kept till her last days), when Nita had got her promotions and had few genuine friends to celebrate it with, when a speeding car knocked her dead as she crossed the highway to her office a week after her 31St birthday.


  .......Its been five years since Nita moved on to a painless, hopefully better place but the sadness and the ache of regret still lingers as fresh as ever...you see, this story is close to my heart, for Nita was my "weirdo" friend and a small part of me wishes that I had, had a chance to say my goodbyes.....




wc 467



(Real names changed to protect those left behind and respect the ones who have moved on.)
September 17, 2010

Stubborn Innocence And White Lies

                                       





Was at the departmental store the other day and saw something both funny, endearing and that which made me sit up and think.
It was the antics of a cute 5/6 year old boy and his mom, out grocery shopping. I guess the mother in question promised him an ice cream of his choice if he helped her pick up stuff. I was on the opposite aisle and could hear the flow of words back and forth.
He would run around picking up small things within his reach and drop them off into the cart . each time asking his mom if he could pick up his ice cream. She would ask him to continue his errands.


After a point the shopping over, she proceeded to the check out counter expecting him to tail along. The smart  little one had other ideas. He plonked himself on the aisle floor and told her off loud enough for the other customers to hear of his intention of leaving the store not without the much promised goodies.Try she might, she never got him to budge till she bought him the offending food , redfaced and cursing under her breath...



The kid got what he wanted, the mother what she had come for. As they left, I couldn't help wonder if the seeds of deceit and disbelief is not sowed in our childhood. Would he grow learning the lesson too early in life, never to trust anyone's word or that it is alright to lie and make false promises as he saw his mother do. 


I wonder, as parents, what qualities and values are we inculcating in our children and should we not shoulder the blame when they turn up as carbon  copies of our own selves, with the very traits  we hate but were the one's who taught them.... 


wc 306 to fictionalise some more
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