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Showing posts from May, 2016


Word count: 99

"Longing for some love today," she wrote in her diary, and sighed.
              "Craving for his attention, and  he wouldn't even notice!"  
               The wistfulness heightened as she brooded over the distance that had grown between the two. A chasm that had only grown wider by the day; wider  than the vast ocean she saw through her window.
"A day might come, when you, oh ocean, will seem a tiny speck!"  

              She mulled over that last line and cringed.
"Not only your marriage, Tara, but also your writing has gone to the dogs! Dump it in that ocean, will you?" 

*The above post has been written for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

The touch.

Travelling during the monsoon in Mumbai's public transport can be quite a feat - achievable only by the regulars. I know, I travelled all through my college years. It can be a  fun ride and a pain at the same time. Fun - if you are in the company of your good mood, and a pain if you are in the company of too many people pushing you,  and brushing against you by mistake, or on purpose. And, being a woman,  reading the motive behind the push or shove in a packed bus is child's play. Yes, we are born with dozens of  invisible sensory appendages on our bodies that give us signals of all sorts, significance of every touch! But, once in a while comes  a  touch that's far from annoying; a touch that can transport us into a wonderland and leave us feeling tickled and flushed to a crimson each time the memory comes alive.

               So, there I was, travelling to college early one  morning in a packed bus; packed, because another bus on our route had had a fla…

The league of the lost.

I often have dreams where I lose things.  I could actually call those nightmares, because I see myself getting frantic trying to find those lost articles.  Rarely do I see what exactly it is that I have lost, for my eyesight fails me, and rarely do I ever find those things. I wake up distraught for having dreamt something so unpleasant and keep pouring over every detail of the dream I can remember in a bid to comprehend its meaning. I guess this is what happens when we  attach  too many emotions to things and people, because  when we realise they aren't with us anymore, we hit rock bottom. I use 'we' here on behalf of all the sentimental fools who keep me company and who go through such distress on losing stuff in life.
            I have lost quite a many things till date, in spite of being very particular about safe-guarding them with my life, and it is missing those things that gives me such bad dreams. 'Things' here, though grammatically  incorrect, mean peo…

Friday Fictioneers: Little birdie in the sky...

98 words.

"110, 111,, yesterday there were 80, today there are more!"

"Maybe their cousins  are here to visit them for Christmas,"

  "Wow! That's great! Do you think Santa will visit them, too?"

     "Well  now, if they have been good birdies, Santa will surely visit them,"

     "Good birdies?"

     "Yeah, if they haven't pooped on passersby, they are good birdies,"

      "Haha! Then Peter's not getting any gifts!" 


        "Yes, Peter - the white one with the black band on his neck,"

     "And, why not?'

       "He shat on your new dress that day, when you were going for that party!"


The hand that rocks the cradle...

She waved the note with a pride that dripped from every pore of her being, and a smile that gave her a haughty look.  Her friends, who  lounged on the expensive couch of her expensive home, oohed and aahed over her little one's thoughtfulness.

         Please be careful when you step into my bedroom -  the floor might be wet.  I had to answer the phone when I was having my bath."

               "Do you see how considerate, how caring my boy is?!" she proclaimed pompously.  "And," she continued in the same breath, "there isn't a  thing he would do without informing me about it! There isn't a single word he would utter without prior consultation with me! And, have you seen the house? Not even a pin is out of its  place! At times, people wonder if I even have a child at home!"  She blew her trumpet loud into the faces of those present. "Now, that's what's called 'upbringing', you see?"


Mom, I promise...

My dear Mom,

                       Here's a Mother's Day letter, as opposed to a Mother's Day outing like last year. Wasn't it fun?! I still remember our long chat at Marine Drive. Ah!The cool sea-breeze, the roasted peanuts and  the incessant bickering of the mother-in-law, daughter-in-law duo that drove me insane!  Ugh! Nevertheless, it was fun, only because you were with me. Else, I would have left the spot in a few minutes.

                 But, that's how life has been, mom. Pleasant and fun only because of you. It's been a cakewalk, actually.  Your constant support, your amazing ability to look for the good in the worst of the circumstances and your never-say-die attitude has pulled me out of many an obstacle. Just pray that I, too, learn to take decisions - think on my feet - as you do, even when things are at such a juncture - it's literally a matter of life and death! Like last year, when you-know-who went through you-know-what. See? …

My gulmohar tree.

I don't remember how long it took to grow, but I remember the six feet high, sturdy gulmohar tree in our front yard that looked so inviting, with its vibrant orange flowers, its lush greenery and its strong ant-infested branches. Yeah! You know those really big, red, mean-looking ants - those were the ones that crawled all over it.  Merely touching the tree trunk gave me the creeps! But, before the ants took over, I was the sole proprietor of the branches that resembled two outstretched arms.
          I would perch myself on one of those branches,  armed with a story book. I wasn't scared of heights back then, but maybe the act of doing something that was not a girle thing to do made me feel uncertain, uneasy. For, although I loved this activity, I did feel jittery, even had a few butterflies in the tummy! But, I loved it - this me time  that I enjoyed with my book and my tree. It was all the more pleasant during the scorching summers. The tree shaded me from …