My Feeble Attempts at Fictions.
Showing posts with label Mixing from external Liquor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mixing from external Liquor. Show all posts
Monday, 19 December 2011

April

Its April. I wait for April all year along. 
I wait for the white, pink, blue, peach color to bloom in my garden.
The lilies are blooming.
How I love lilies. The day I knew the first lily in my garden is going to attain her youth, my face had an ear to ear long smile.


I hardly get to see the blooming lilies in my own house immaterial of how I love them, that too under tight scrutiny. Because, someone else loves them more than me or anyone else in the kingdom.
The knights of the king are waiting for every lily in the kingdom to bloom, so that they can pick them for the princess's bath. She has the luxury of lily bathe only 30 days in a year.



Friday, 16 December 2011

March

The adolescence was bidding goodbye. Our play dates were changing into secret meetings.
A whiff of cold March air blew my hair on my face when our lips met behind the oak tree that day.

He asked me how I felt like.

I don't know, I said.

He agreed to keep our kisses secret until I found out how I felt about them. I felt good.

He wasn't anything like those assholes in school. Kissing someone secretly and moving around with some hot girl for public display.
He smiled at me every time our eyes met, which happened often during the school hours and after school hours.

Our secret meetings continued, with kisses or without.

He handed me over my first job contract outside the school that day.

If you're going to get me a good job, you have to give me a good kiss before that. I said. He smiled.

Our kisses, and our meetings weren't secret anymore.

P.S. This is reproduction of a dream I had early morning today. :)

P.P.S: Written for Nimue's Months of the Year Challenge
Thursday, 8 December 2011

February

'Its never too late to fall in love.' That's what he said while wrapping the bandage around her arm. 
She smiled and looked away, out of the window. 

February, the month of love, she thought as her eyes fell on the shrubs loaded with roses in the garden outside that window.


'Maa, you should meet Dr. Agnihotri. He is very nice. He likes you.' He said as he finished dressing the wound on his mother's arm from brush of thorns of roses shrubs. 

February. She will turn 50 this February. She nodded at her son for the scheduling the meeting. 


Sunday, 4 December 2011

January

A new year, new hopes and new agendas with new resolutions and some old ones carried forward.
January, you're welcome. I hope you are nice to me, so are the months that follow.
January, you' re cold, but remember to bring me warmth. 
January, you're dry, don't forget to bring me moisture.
January, you're the one I look forward to the most, if you're good, the faith in rest being good gets strong. 


Dear Januaries of the past, bless the Januaries of the future.

Prompt for Nimue's Months of the Year Challenge! :)
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. 

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Evidence

The dead body was found laden in blood. Along side, laid a blood stained knife. The forensic was called. The body was taken for postmortem. The wounds on the body matched with the knife. No fingerprints, however, were found.

A snake was found near the dead body in the postmortem lab next day. The snake refused to leave the dead. The snake was taken in custody, packed in a jar labeled 'Evidence'.

The jar was found broken and the snake was again near the dead. 


Tuesday, 12 July 2011

The Doll

There is a kid. 
She goes to a super market with her parents. She likes a doll. She wants that doll. Her parents find that doll sub-standard. They do not buy it for her. 
They allure her with other things. She loves the doll. She wants the doll very much. She cries.


She goes rebellious. The parents get her all kinds of nice, expensive toys from every part of the world. She doesn't touch them. She wants the doll. 

The revolution goes on for years. She barely talks to anyone, she barely eats. She is filled with hatred.

The parents give in. They get her the doll.

She is happy. She is very happy.

Now, she doesn't know what to do with the doll. She locks it in her cupboard and goes out looking for another toy she can cry for.


Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Dhobighat- Not the movie.

I come out in the balcony with a bucket full of washed clothes.
My husband gifted me a FBI fully automatic washing machine on my last birthday. But I hardly use it. I like washing clothes with my bare hands. Its not because I am too naive to understand how it works, it is because removing dirt from the clothes gives me weird comfort.

I start spreading the clothes on the cables. Mrs. Mehra from the opposite balcony smiles at me. She tries to engage me in a conversation, I smile and come back telling her my phone is ringing.
I come in and spot the dirty duster in the corner, I pick it up and start rubbing the fingerprints from the glass top of the center table. 
Will those dirty fingerprints on my body come off ever, I always wonder. 
My husband is here. He is going to see water dripping off the wet clothes in the balcony and ask me again to use the washing machine.
He will then ask me to get a dhobi come to our place and collect laundry because everyone does that. 
And I will start screaming on the mention of dhobi and faint. Like everyday.


Tuesday, 25 January 2011

When I did not take Dump in time

The morning was Cold. The alarm clock snoozed, and I took the first look on my Twitter Timeline. 
She was there. Enough reason to make my morning.
I pulled over my quilt.
That was when my phone rang and I realized I had an important meeting to look forward to in office and I was already 30 minutes late. 
I splashed water on my face and ran.
Everyone in the conference room looked at me as if I came straight out of my bed. And I had.
I connected the laptop to the projector and thats when I realized I could not wait for the meeting to get over to go to the washroom.
I fumbled in the wires and my laptop jumped from the table and committed suicide.
And, then something in my pants committed suicide.

P.S. This one is for @chulbul_pandi ;) 

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