You told me it was in my best interest–
the yelling, the barely restrained anger.
Then,
You told me it was all my fault–
the yelling, the unrestrained anger.
Now,
You tell me I deserve it–
before all hell breaks loose
everyday…
Tag: Pain
The Long Walk
It is a long walk down the aisle. My father holds my hand reassuringly while my mom sobs in the pew. He stands with the pastor looking perfect as ever but I can’t bring myself to smile.
Is it too late to cancel?
Is it wrong to wish for something other than perfection?
I pass by her and, for a second, her entire face lightens up but, then, the lights go out again. Her red-rimmed eyes mirror mine.
Is it too late to cancel?
Heartache
I picked up the flower that had fallen from her hair. It still held her fragrance.
Ever since she moved here, I followed her around, hoping she would look at me and never look away. Often, I would walk behind her, right past her, in front of her…
But she seemed to look right through me.
Then, this guy came and held her from behind. She squealed in terror. Naturally, I attacked him. But instead of supporting her saviour, she hit me with a stick and called me a ‘stupid bird’! Worse still, she kissed him!
I’ll never love again!
Photo by Raimond Klavins on Unsplash
The Veil
Waiting at the bus stop,
Rain drops pelting from midnight sky,
Drenching bags, veiling the tears.
The Fight
Walked in with fists tight,
Shouted, cursed, blamed, cried, fell on knees,
Begged for mercy, in church, that night.
Based on the style of Classic Hindi writer, Bihari, known for writing entire story in two lines.
Awaiting
I look at the clock for the hundredth time. He’s still not home.
3:21 AM: It’s futile to wait up. It is only 3 hour journey. If he was coming home tonight, he would be home long back.
4:07 AM: But his friend had said he met him at VT station…
5:37 AM: He probably didn’t find a train…
6:58 AM: But why hasn’t he picked up the phone?
8:09 AM: Is he alright? Why would he not call me back? I know he is always angry but how can he ignore 26 calls?
9:16 AM: Did he have an accident?
9:45 AM: Should I call police?
10:15 AM: His text reads, “The maid will be late.”
11:13 AM: The maid is home, more cheerful than usual.
11:30 AM: He saunters in more cheerful than usual. I rush to meet him. His hair is wet from the shower.
I quietly move to the inner room. He speaks to the maid in a low tone. They laugh…
Impasse
I hold the phone
hoping you’ll pick up;
hoping you wouldn’t;
hoping you’ll recognise the number;
hoping you wouldn’t;
wondering how you could forget the number
when I couldn’t…
I hold the phone
hoping you’re awake;
hoping you’re asleep;
wondering how you could,
when I couldn’t…
I hold the phone wondering
if you have company
and who could she be;
fuming, how you could
when I couldn’t…
Raging, I throw the phone
at the wall
breaking it into pieces
like me…
Still wishing,
you had taken that call…
Unsaid Goodbyes
You stand with your family
looking at me with eyes full of hate–
angry at god-knows-what
since god-knows-when–
glaring at the lawyer, the clerk, the judge,
your mortal enemies without a grudge.
You shift the glare
to burn a hole through my heart.
Startled, I glance back without anger,
only deep loss at the part
where the last thing we ever share
is the papers you hand over
to set us both apart.
Nowhere
Taking steps one at a time,
Lost in a haze of images–
Too slow to look at,
Too fast to understand,
Backwards in the good times we had,
Fast forward in the non-existent future.
Voices of friends
a blur of background noises–
Too high to like,
Too low to register,
Numb to all pain–
Too numb to be alive,
Too dead to be breathing,
Still existing
In a world without you…
Image by Jr Korpa on Unsplash
Deep Within
I sit in the class
with all my best friends
laughing at their silly jokes
when I look behind
to find
my parents asking
why I am not packing.
So I walk to my drawer
and pull out all I own–
my bed and study table,
my colours and pencils,
drawing board and birthday cards,
letters and flowers,
and a stapler
to tie it all together
in a shoe box
that I’d carry to my new home.
I turn around one last time.
My friends disappear
one-by-one
in the rapidly darkening hall.
I hunt for a candle to light
so I won’t lose their sight
but there is none to find.
I feel no fear,
only deep inevitable pain,
an emptiness in my gut,
on losing
all that mattered the most.
I wake up choking on my tears
like every time
I dream of the days from the past.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 