My Feeble Attempts at Fictions.
Wednesday, 30 November 2011

जीना इसी का नाम है... #Day30

कुछ ढूंढ रही थी मैं. एक पुरानी डायरी. कुछ पुराने फ़ोन नंबर चाहिए थे. कुछ पुराने दोस्तों की याद आई, कुछ पुराने किस्सों की...
कुछ पुरानी तसवीरें मिलीं और कुछ पुरानी बातें ज़ेहन में उठीं...
क्या दिन थे, जब जोश में दुनिया बदलने की बातें किया करते थे. लेक्चर हॉल में बैठ कर अपने महत्वकांक्षाएं साझी किया करते थे.  राजनीति बदलने की बातें, सरकार बदलने की बातें...
बातें तो कॉलेज में ही रह गयीं. कुछ दोस्त सिस्टम में शामिल हो गए, कुछ सिस्टम के ग़ुलाम.
आज सुबह अखबार देखा तो एक दोस्त की तस्वीर दिखाई पड़ी. गर्व महसूस हुआ जब खबर पढ़ी. दोस्त ने एक नवजात बच्ची को कचरे के ढेर से उठा कर गोद लेने का फैसला किया था.
बस, कॉलेज के आखिरी दिन, डायरी में उसके लिखे हुए शब्द याद हो आये..


एक शायद उसी ने अपने शब्दों को साकार किया था. जीना इसी का तो नाम है...


Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Home #Day29

Your mother has written to you more than thousand times. Your father has told you over hundred times on the phone. Your siblings have been asking you the same everyday over video conferences. 
But you've been too busy, stuck with work, engaged in earning, making a living.
Not only your family, but you house misses you too. Come back, my son. You've spent 20 years of your life here, and you can very well spend the rest here too. Like everyone else is. 
Don't you miss being with your family, being in your own house?
Minting money was never a priority for this family. Your own country misses you. 
Come back.




P.S. Season Finale tomorrow. :)

Monday, 28 November 2011

The Park #Day28

He stopped walking at the sight of the Karan Park. His feet took him inside on their own. He found himself near the same bench, after about 5 years. He tried to walk away, filled with fury, but couldn't manage. He threw himself on the bench and wept. Wept like he did five years ago. Helpless and feeble.
The past started playing at the back of his mind, like a movie rolls.
This day, that year. He was here, with his five year old. To get fresh air and to spend some quality time with this son. The kid wanted to climb the tree but he was too afraid to let him. 
He child threw tantrums and he ignored. He picked the kid up and started moving towards the house When his phone rang. It was his boss calling. 
He let his son down on the ground and answered the call, only to turn around to the child's loud scream, finding him bleeding. He had fell off the tree and hurt his head on the bench.
Before he could run to pick his child, the kid had lost his pulse.



Work before everything theory killed his son.

Sunday, 27 November 2011

The Journey #Day27

She looked out of the door. The train looked beautiful in those lights under the star lit sky. The rail tracks telling thousand of stories of hundreds of trains that make their way to their destinations rolling on them.
She wasn't sure whether to step down or not. She had pulled the chain a few minutes ago from the aisle so that nobody knew who did it.
She ran her fingers through her dirty, rough, tangled hair and jumped off the train. She dint know what station was it, what city or town. Her journey had not finished. She had taken up a new journey in the middle of the ongoing one.


P.S. Another 3 days to go! :)

Saturday, 26 November 2011

Mounts #Day26

'Why don't you visit me more often? I like having you here?' My uncle said as we put down our tea cups after drowning the beverage down our throats.
'I am scared of all these animal heads and mounts that adorn your walls, uncle' I replied.
'Nothing to be scared of son! They are dead already. Moreover, they are more scared of human beings even when alive. I see the fear in their eyes and I know when to shoot them.' The uncle consoled me.
'I don't know uncle, I feel their souls are still wandering in this room of yours' I found myself blabbering.
'You talk rubbish.' He was laughing aloud.
'I'd take your leave uncle now.' I got up moving towards the door as I noticed a dead fox's eyes following me.

Friday, 25 November 2011

Rainbow #Day25

He was screaming in pain. She kicked him in the nuts and ran for her life. It was a stormy night. The sky had decided to fall completely that night. There was nowhere she could go. She took shelter in the bus stand nearby and hid herself in the dark as much she could. She covered her infant with the swatch of the cloth she had in the name of saree.
A shake on her shoulder woke her up. The shoulder shake came from a woman with a nice face and smile. First thing she was a rainbow and then, a bus of certain NGO.


It is another morning, after a dark, stormy, rainy night.


Thursday, 24 November 2011

Expressions #Day24

The air was heavy. They became conscious of each others' physical presence more than anytime before. He held her hand tighter than ever before.
She just smiled. He wrapped his arms around her. She wasn't diffident. Just shy. He planted a kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes.
He stopped. He dint want it to be one side effort. She opened her eyes. He smiled. She smiled back and pecked him on the nose. 
Their lips found each other. Everything else ceased to exist.

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

Answers #Day23

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. The usual quarter life crisis. Where is my life heading, whatever happened to my passion, and the job I chose over my dreams is giving me nothing but money, which I don't even get to spend.
I took a day off, just to ponder. I took off to a near by garden, sitting on the bench, I noticed this insect. Crawling on the plant. Struggling its way through the stems, leaves, thorns, flowers of the plant. 
This is what I am doing with my life. Struggling. To live. Live the way as life is coming to me.
The crisis is over. I have my answer. I got up and started towards my office.



P.S. This is dedicated to Khule da Rab by Rabbi Shergil and Papon (The Dewarists). There is one line in the lyrics, which means, no matter whatever huge entity I think I am, at the end of it all, I am but only one small insect of your existence, mother nature. 

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

The Window #Day22

I dragged the side of the curtain a little bit to let some light sieve into the room. The grills on this window are made of wrought iron. They not only don't let people and animals pass through these windows but also preserve bleakness escape from this dull room and let happiness come in.
It has been 20 years I haven't seen the world outside of this room. They say I am insane, I need to stay in. I say, these walls protect me from insanity of the world. 

The only peek-a-boo, being this window which encourages me to stay inside.

Monday, 21 November 2011

Sunday #Day21

The otherwise murky neighborhood was busy in their everyday dull routine. They walked down the road, chatting lazily. It was Sunday. The day off. The day when getting drunk with Sun up was a tradition. The day of making some extra money or even losing their whole week's earnings in card games. They discussed women of the colony, categorizing them into convenient and not accessible.
It was turning out a lazy Sunday. Only, if they got lucky today, they can feast tonight on some chicken. Thought of chicken made them salivate.
It was when a speeding truck hit them from behind. There was blood on the road.

Sunday, 20 November 2011

The Valley #Day20

He applied brakes, dragged a little and frictioned his feet to stop. He unmounted his Royal Enfield and parked it on the edge of the road. Then, he took off his helmet. He turned towards the valley and spread his arms like he wanted to hug the entire valley. He breathed in the pine trees and the beautiful purple sky line. 
He was home. This was his home. He could die right away without any regrets.
He smiled at random tourists around and exchanged a few chit chats with them for a few minutes.
He, then, sat on a rock on the edge and took out his drawing book and pencil. A pretty face sketched itself on the blank page in the matter of minutes.



This face was familiar. The face from the drawing book actualized itself into a human figure and smiled at him. She looked so serene. Before he could get up and approach that woman from the drawing book, she jumped off the road and faded away into the valley.

Saturday, 19 November 2011

The Light #Day19

This place looks serene. The day was calm otherwise, except for when a cat caught a crow and the whole crow community mourned over their loss for about an hour. There are too many cats around, but far less than crows.
This house has no power.
The watchman dint want to stay past sunset. I let him leave.
I have lit a candle. It looks beautiful. Only, it goes out every few minutes. Strangely, there is no wind.


If I am found dead tomorrow morning, treat this as my last testament against the candle. It is creepy indeed.


Friday, 18 November 2011

Sands of Time #Day18

Meet me when the time stands still. Meet me when there is no barrier of life, birth or death. Meet me where we can be two souls, together, beyond the considerations of morning, noon or evening.
Meet me where there is no right and no wrong.
Meet me at the horizon.
Meet me when we have a handful of sands of time, which do not slip through our hands.


Thursday, 17 November 2011

Rains #Day17

I look out of the window. It is drizzling. Rains give me pleasure. Pleasure is a rare commodity these days. Magical how a few drops pouring from the sky quenches thirst of the nature. Nature's way to take care of everything. bringing peace to everything. I wish someday this rain exhausts the fire of a loss burning inside many people like me.


Wednesday, 16 November 2011

एक पुरानी कहानी #Day16

कहानी है एक छोटे शहर की. एक बचपन की. 
छोटे से घर के छोटे से बगीचे की. एक नीम्बू के पेड़ की और नानी माँ की कहानियों की.
नीम्बू के अचार के साथ ठंडे परांठों की. आम की गुठलियों की, घड़े के ठंडे पानी की.  
दूध का गिलास हाथ में ले कर माँ जब पीछे भागती थी, तब की.
पेड़ों पर चढ़ने की, पड़ोस के दोस्तों के साथ पकड़ा पकड़ी खेलने की.
घर के पास के बाग़ में जा कर मछलियाँ देखने की. मौसेरे फुफेरे भाई बहनों को चिढ़ाने की, उनके साथ हंसने खेलने की.


बस कहानियां ही तो रह गयीं हैं अब वो सब बातें...


Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Bangles #Day15

Red, green, yellow, orange, pink and many other. These are the colors every Indian woman feels connected with. Ever since early childhood until death. 
Rings made of glass. These rings symbolize happiness, prosperity and blessings. They adorn wrists of women. Girls my age get so excited on the sight of them. 
My hands are weary. I don't even know if I ever will be able to wear them.
To me, they earn me bread of the day. To me, they are the source of feeding my little siblings.

Monday, 14 November 2011

The Woods #Day14


Here I am again. On these same pavements, in these same woods. They haven't changed, even though everything else has. 20 years. 
The same sieved sunlight. The same winds blowing on to face. The same shadows. The same smell.
This is the place where I last met her. Where I last left her with a promise to return here today. Does she remember the promise? Will she turn up? 



It has been two days I have been waiting for her. I feel irritated. I wonder how would have she felt for all these 20 years...


Sunday, 13 November 2011

Pumps #Day13

This pair of pumps is jinxed. One of the most expensive pair I ever bought. Whenever I wear them, I trip. 

Also, no matter how many times I clean them, the heels are always dirty. So dirty that I can't tolerate.  Leather. Animal Skin. 

I have a theory. They come to life when I am not looking. They walk on their own. They visit places I'd never do in my conscious mind.
Where else would they get this dirt from? Why is there blood on them? 

They used the skin to make a pair of footwear. But the animal lived on.




P.S. I have gotten rid of this pair.


Saturday, 12 November 2011

The Moon #Day11

Have you seen the moon anytime hoping that someone else might also be seeing it at the same time? Making same figures out of the patches on the moon? Feeling the same breeze on their face? I do that often. Not because I have a lover on a far away land who I promised to see through moon. But because it gives me immense power. Power and pleasure. That someone on a far away land, or probably not that far away land, might be feeling the exact same things I feel.


Someday, I hope soon, I'll find someone of my kind. We'll stare at the moon together and draw Power. The claws will be stronger and teeth sharper. The hunt easy and the hunger satisfied.


Friday, 11 November 2011

Cherries #Day11

My son brought me to this general store to do grocery shopping. I am new to this country, thus checking out the stores and the operating systems.  

Cherries. I stop at the counter and stare at them.

Whenever I see cherries, they always remind me of him. He used to bring them for me at our secret meeting place- the back of the thick banyan tree, only to snatch them from my hand and eat them all. 

We grew up together in a small town of Himachal Pradesh. Calling it a town would be an overstatement. A small colony developed for the officers of the Board. My father was an officer too, very much like his. 
I don't know about his present or past whereabouts. There was no Facebook or email when we last met. Or should I say when we separated. 
'Mom, lets go!' The son wants to go. I pick a handful of cherries and walk towards the billing counter.


Thursday, 10 November 2011

Togetherness #Day10

Back then: She was naive. He was enthusiastic.
Now: She is wise. He is accomplished.

Back then: She had a candid smile. He had bright eyes.
Now: She has an enlightening smile. He has fulfilled eyes.

Back then: She was callow. He was ambitious.
Now: She is refined. He is self actualized.

Back then: They were a perfect couple.
Now: They are a perfect couple.


The only thing that remains unchanged over years is LOVE and togetherness. 

P.S. This one is dedicated to my lovely parents, who set the best example of love in front of me, built and keep my faith in the 'institution of marriage' intact. :)

P.P.S. It is an amazing feeling that I've succesfully published 10 posts. Shutter Inspired Micro Shots is 10 days down. Another 20 to go! Cheers!!

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Diwali #Day9

I literally dragged her out of her apartment. She had moved in to the apartment next door to ours, recently. Diwali being my favorite festival, I was too excited. She dint seem too enthusiastic about this whole thing. 
Charming girl like her doesn't look good when glum. She must fear crackers was my first guess. But I was hell bent to take all her fears out tonight. 

The whole building was adorned like a new bride. Everything was so bright, so beautiful. Only, she was dull. I teased her. She dint reciprocate. 

'Are you okay?' I had asked her when I saw she was turning pale at the sight of fireworks. She dint say anything. Until a bomb startled all of us. She screamed and passed out.
She was unconscious, sweating profusely and mumbling. 'let me go, please' was all I could make out.

She dint regain conscious until 3 days.
Now I know, why precisely she was is afraid of Diwali.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

The Weapon #Day8

The nauseating stink led me to open the terrace door and find the corroding corpse of the cat. The neighbors missing Ginger. 
I almost puked at the sight of the carcass being eaten by insects and bugs. The watchman removed the dead cat from my terrace and cleaned it.
The neighbor was almost in tears. So was I. She had lost her favorite pet and I had found the weapon that stabbed the pet. 


The count now is three since the day I found in my grand uncle's tool kit. I should get rid of it as soon as possible.

Monday, 7 November 2011

The Wait #Day7

When was the last time you spared a smile at me? When was the last time you bestowed a few minutes at me? When was the last time you read a book to me or shared a cup of coffee? When was the last time you talked about your feelings? When was the last time we stared at moon together or counted stars?
I can't seem to remember.
Everyday, I witness you walk past me, busy in yourself, running errands, in a hurry to reach office. I know its not really your fault. You are busy in making your life better. Get a bigger house, bigger car. May be even a bigger and prettier swing than me.
I hope you do get that all. Only, I will wait for you to have some time for yourself and relax with me.


Sunday, 6 November 2011

The Goblet #Day6

He could smell her somewhere near. He could smell she was hurt and fighting for breath. 
There she was, behind that Spruce tree, lying in the muddle of water. Cold water. 
He picked her in his arms and rushed towards the house. He kicked open the heavy door and laid her down. She was too feeble. Just enough to point to that direction.
He nodded in a 'No'. He could not give it to her.
She wanted it. She needed it to live.
That would make her a beast all over again.
But he loved his sister way to much to let turn into beast than let her die.



The Goblet of blood was drained into her. 

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