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.
Saturday, 5 November 2011
Music of Life #Day5
Every passenger in the coup turned their necks as the silky voice reached their ears.
The otherwise snoring train compartment came to life as the guy who looked like a nomad, also dressed like one, sang song after song.
Everyone was enjoying, clapping with every clump of the stringy instrument he had. As soon as he finished singing, he spread out his dirty amber cloth for collecting deserved prize money for entertaining people.
Many people who were dancing a few seconds back went back to snoring and others started advising him 'kama kar khaao...'
He unfolded his white cane and started moving towards the next compartment in the hope of a better lot of people he could entertain.
