My Feeble Attempts at Fictions.
Showing posts with label Randomness Infinite. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Randomness Infinite. Show all posts
Wednesday, 27 June 2012

The Moment

I think I've arrived there finally. Probably, more than a decade late. But almost there. Mere presence of someone in my vicinity is stirring me. I try to remember when was the last time I felt like this, if ever. 

His eyes are playing. More as his body moves with the rhythm. His feet flawless. 

He holds out his hands, I take them. They are surprisingly cold, for a man sweating so profusely. I pretend to play distracted, while he plays distant (I'd like to think he is playing it) for such small distance between our bodies. The pace of the rhythm increases, so does his, followed by my feet, almost involuntarily. Being led by him, on the dance floor, with my heels producing a sweet melody of their own to match with the Latin music, is intoxicating if I am not understating it. He pulls me in his arms and locks me in. I can feel his rapid breath on my neck. While he motions me in circles to the circumference of the dance floor, I can see our reflections in the huge mirrors. Visible difference in our heights. He is somewhere between six feet 2 and 3 inches while I can see an invisible foot ruler hanging on my head to reach his. 

He turns me around and I find myself looking into his eyes, feeling those broad shoulders under my fingers. God, he moves so swiftly. 
The sound of applause breaks my chant and I look around to see people looking appreciatively at us. He is standing beside me, with his arm around my waist. The charge between us, I'd give anything away to be here, at this moment.
The instructor approaches us and the next thing I know is he is gone. 

I fall back into reality with a thud. 
The moment has passed. 

As I collect my things, I see him at the far end of the gym, collecting his hand towel from his bag. He smiles at me. I return the smile. The formal smile. He is again, a person I know from the dance class, not my type, with an expression that clearly tell me that I am not his type either. But then, a question pops in my head 'what exactly is your type?' I decide to put it on halt, for later.
I say bye to almost everyone on my way to the exit. I start to say bye to him (the formal one) he interrupts to ask me if I am joining the new evening class, I say I haven't decided yet. 'It's going to be fun' he is telling me. 

He persuading me. That's my ego smiling sarcastically. 'I'll think' I say and step out of the exit door.


Friday, 23 March 2012

The Guest- Finale

Read Part 1 here, and Part 2 here.

He is strumming my favorite song on my guitar as I open my eyes. I had napped while talking to him.
Ain't no sunshine, when she's gone.
Some songs have associations attached to them. When you stop getting reminded of a certain person on hearing a song, you're over them.
He played this tune some 20 yrs ago over the phone. I still clearly remember.
I sit across him by the fireplace. He is smiling at me. Playing the same tune. Ain't no sunshine, when she's gone.
This is the moment when I realize the song he used to play for me, is meant for his daughter now.
'Sing along?' He says.
'I don't sing.'
'You do.'
'I did.'

_____________________________________________________________

I place his laundry on the couch. He is busy reading this book. He turns around and finds his return ticket over the pile of his clothes.
He looks at me.
'You realized last night that I was missing my daughter?'
'Yes.' I smile.
'When does the train leave?'
'In an hour.'
'Are you coming to railway station?'
'No.'
'Can I come back sometime?'
'Don't.'
He zips his LV.
'I'm going to miss you.'
'Bye.'
I go inside as I hear him strolling out of the front door.


Saturday, 17 March 2012

The Guest- II

Read Part 1 here.


He is ruffling his hair dry with a white towel while walking out from the bathroom. My white towel. I see he has made himself comfortable around the house, using my things. This towel is going with him.
I hand him a plate of fresh pancakes and a large cup of coffee. He smiles while I grab my breakfast from the kitchen slab and take the chair opposite to his.


'What did you tell your wife, where were you going?' I ask him casually.
'She knows I am here. In fact, she insisted me to visit you.'
'She's that cool? Are you impotent?'
'I have two kids.' He is smiling.
'So, how does that prove you're potent?'
'They resemble me.'
'I might not let you go back after all.'
'Given your past record, that sounds a little not possible.'
'I am a changed person.'
'I've been missing you a lot lately. The wife told me to visit you. She was the one to find out your hibernation address.'
'I'm not hibernating.' I sip my coffee.
'Your cooking has become tastier.'
'Your grammar still sucks.'
 He chuckles.

Part 3, soon.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

The Guest- Pilot

Walking the narrow path down the hill to my home, I today think of the day I walked this way the first time. I instantly liked the house and the pavement that led to it. Calm, green and standing lonely. All what I wanted and needed.


My eyes get stuck on an oak tree. An old, withered tree and I see a burrow underneath that tree. A bunny is sitting cozy. I smile. Taking my eyes of the bunny, I continue walking towards the house. A human figure is visible sitting on the porch. I can't make out who, from the distance. I am not expecting anyone to show up. 

Looks like a man, who is looking away. All I can see is his back. A check shirt in blue and white. I continue walking.

He turns. He must have heard my footstep approaching the house and crushing of the dry leaves. I stop. Not that I am shocked or happy or even sad to see this face in such a long time. A smiling face. A little withered and old than last time I remember setting eyes on this face. The same eyes.

I stand there for a few minutes looking at that face while he shifts in his sitting position waiting for me to make a move. There is nothing going on in my mind. Probably the mind is adapting to that sight. Very much like the eyes adapt to sudden darkness or sudden light. 

'How long have you been sitting here?' I finally walk towards him. 
'For 2 hours, 48 minutes to be precise' He is looking at this wrist watch.
I seat myself beside him. None of say anything for a few minutes, looking in no direction in particular. Looks like we are absorbing each others' presence.
'How long are you going to stay?' I look at his luggage. An expensive Louise Vuitton travel bag that looks stuffed.
'As long as you let me.' He is looking at me. 
'Got no work?'
'Work has been going on since forever and will keep on going.'
'You'll have to sleep on the couch.'
'No problem with that.' He is still smiling.
'Do not expect me to take your luggage inside'. I am unlocking the door.
He chuckles and follows me inside the house strolling his LV.


Next part, soon.

Sunday, 11 March 2012

Dream Destination


He: What is your dream destination?
She: I don't know. Anywhere I could be with you. What is yours?
He: You.


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.



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, 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.


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