Month: Mar 2020
Pencil Shavings
That day, when I sat next to you, you fidgeted in your seat, ashamed to share your space with a girl like me. You didn’t think I noticed when you rolled your eyes, looking exasperate, at the leggy birdbrain across the class.
One look at my braces and glasses, and you trashed me…like your pencil shavings.
One of my stories is up on Drabble.com, a website specialising in stories below 100 words.
Check it out via The Lighthouse.
Click Like or Share if you like it.
The Lighthouse
When My World Went Crazy
You had walked in the room
for the first time
after we married
for love–
one that I had fought for
against my world.
I was shivering with anticipation
as you kissed my cheek,
and then,
without a preface,
you asked me
(on the day you wed me for ‘love’)
when my father would send the money.
When I answered,
I saw your face fall.
you hadn’t married me
for love, after all.
That day my world tumbled
Until nothing made sense anymore.
When my world went crazy
You had walked in the room
For the first time
After we married
For love–
One that I had fought for
Against my world.
I was shivering with anticipation
As you kissed my cheek,
And then,
Without a preface,
You asked me
(On the day you wed me for ‘love’)
When my father would send the money.
When I answered,
I saw your face fall.
You hadn’t married me
For love, after all.
That day my world tumbled
Until nothing made sense anymore.
The Exorcist
He sprinkled a few drops on himself.
“Go away evil spirits. I banish thee from this body.”
Then, he drank the rest of the glass to ensure he had cleansed every tissue from within.
Then, for a good measure, he drank the rest of the Johnnie Walker straight from the bottle too.
“Drown you evil spirits. I banish you, Corona!”
Note from the author: It may seem a little insensitive to joke about a disease that has taken so many lives. But I just wish to remind all panicked people, including myself, that it is just a disease and not apocalypse…yet.
Little Things
I had always been like that–
Building shrines
For dead butterflies,
And visiting
With the freshest flowers.
You had been like that too,
Loving me for little things,
Until you grew up
And I didn’t.
Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash
At the End of the Rainbow
I run a rosary in my gnarled fingers at peace with my aloneness. Then I hear it–my bane, the jingle of bangles and anklets.
Vexed, I grit my teeth.
Why does she wear the abomination? Of course, I know the reason–the custom. She still has a husband.
I picture her in my mind–standing in the kitchen, face glowing after a night full of love, in a saree of red… green… yellow… It was me many years back. Now white and cream mark the end of my rainbow.
Bile rises in my throat.
She hums a song I have loved all my life–it speaks of hope and love that I once had.
I crush the rosary in a death grip.
She drops something trivial and I lose it. I shout abuses at her and curse my stars for wedding her to my son. I shout until I’m hoarse and can shout no more. I shout until she’s in tears and smiles no more.
Placated, again, I hold my rosary to look for that elusive peace. Sure there will be hell to pay later, literally. But life isn’t exactly heaven for the likes of me.
A Hushed Conversation
A hushed conversation
“Isn’t that the same tree stump we passed twice before?”
“Not sure. Can’t tell one from another in the mist.”
Silence
“Greta, should we call out father’s name?”
“Han! We have been over that before. He isn’t coming. You heard mother last night, didn’t you?”
“She was just complaining about the lack of food…”
“And too many mouths to feed!”
“Then, why didn’t they send us to the king? We could have worked as slaves or something.”
“Because then, they would have to give us food for the way and money for the ride. It beats the whole point.”
Silence
“I’m scared.”
“Me too.”
“And hungry.”
“I’m so hungry, I can smell gingerbread.”
“Me too.”
Silence
“Do you remember what old Rabbi told about the witch house made of gingerbread?”
“He’s senile.”
“I hope he’s right. I would rather be eaten than starved.”
Silence
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
Bending Till I Fall
Along the highway,
the sprawling forest
clings to the shoulder
of the steep hill.
The tall Cedar
growing on the sides
bend all the way upwards
to hug and please,
hoping the hill wouldn’t
shrug them off
into the abyss…
so much like I do
everyday
for you.
The Snowflake
“I don’t know what the Captain was thinking, dropping me and taking another goalie? I’m the best this school has ever seen. Heck! I’m the best in the country!
I’m sure, he’s jealous! His girl has the hots for me, you know. Or maybe, he’s afraid I’ll replace him as a Captain. He’s been trying to discredit me for so long.
You saw him the other day during the match. I was telling that Centre Forward how to hold his stick properly and the Captain jumped out of his pants shouting on the top of his lungs. Even the Coach sided by him, telling me it wasn’t my place and sent me back to the goal. There have been so many incidents like that. And now this!
You are my only hope, sir. As the Principal of our school, I trust you would not let jealousy stand in the way of the next Miracle.”
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
Trudging Along
I walk in the woods, my eyes seeing red, literally. My anger is spilling out in waves. The swishing sound she leaves behind her makes me grit my teeth.
Why does she have to sound so graceful even now, while I crush the leaves under my feet?
Why could I never be like her? People stop to admire her when she enters a room while I move in her shadow, forever unnoticed and ignored.
Even Papa…
Well, she isn’t pretty anymore with the glass pieces and blood on her face. I drag her in the ravine, finally at peace.
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
Lucky
This post is now part of a short story collection. I will upload the links soon.
Hi All, One of my older stories was published on Drabble.com, a website that specialises in quality short stories.
Please visit and hit the Like/Share/Reblog button if you like it.
via The Road
The Road
Love That Lasts
She leaned in for a kiss—
my angel,
a flower petal herself.
My closed eyes
ticklish
with her breath.
With abated breath,
I waited,
as I felt her tender fingers,
touch my rouge hair,
wind around
my neck and heart.
Then, she snapped it.
Well! At least,
I never felt the pain.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 