Short Stories

That night!!!

2009-12-15T05:10:00.000-08:00

That day I ,Louis Peindertan could never forget it.I was reading "the horror stories told and retold."The clock rang 12 but I could not keep the book down because the story was so much thrilling slowly,12 became 1........
There was no sound everything was silent,
there was pitch darkness outside
I could hear the tiny waves dashing against the rocks in the far off shore,it was so clear there was no other sound,expect the slow deep breathe of my sister and the sound made by that fan.
I too decided to sleep otherwise I would go on reading,
Now I should go and switch of the lights and then sleep,
but
I did not have the courage to go and switch off
But I couldn't leave it as such,then
the next day my breakfast would be cut by mom(poor soul how much time she could be kind)
I had to do it,
slowly I got up went and switched off the light
Everything was pitch black
I went and lied near my sister who had slept long ago,closing my eyes tightly,
I could only hear the rustle of the papers,Oh!I wish I should have closed that book,
No,sooner I thought something feel over me,it was so huge strangling me,
It was so huge
and strangling me
I tried pushing it down but it was so huge,
I could not breathe
and soon would be strangled if it continued to do so.
With all the strength I could muster I kicked it hard in the chest it gave a great yell and sprang upon the floor,it couldn't regain at once.
taking that fraction of second as an advantage I tried waking my sister no use.....
Oh!no
the creature has got up.
it is coming towards me,
I just ran banging the door
The main gate was open
I just ran out,there was no one only the street lights glowing
The creature was running slowly,still looking straight at me,as it would never leave me,
I have reached the sea,no more to run expect jump into the sea,
But there is something
a deep chasm
I could reach the sea
before the chasm
no some one has dug it recently
yet it was very deep
and
and.............
it had a

the tombstone which read
Louis Peindertan
Born:04.09.1984
Died:09.08.2009
Oh!that's today
Oh!no
Before I could regain from the shock the creature has come near me,
I had no way to go except to accept the defeat,
but I am not going to die easily,
whatever it has come seeking for is not going to be that easy,
I fought with all the strength I could muster
but it over powered me,
soon I was dieing falling inside my grave
I just moved my hand vaguely so that I could grasp something,
I felt something long and silvery
I just pulled it.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
there was a great yelling sound
everything went black again
I was in my bedroom pulling my sisters hair.

Road to Freedom

2009-11-11T07:12:00.000-08:00

A short story that i wrote when i was probably 14, If you want to follow my blog its available at http://chaoticone.com

She was walking down the road, the road that seemed to go nowhere; the only thing on her mind was her loneliness and the rain, which had started pouring in. All along the road were trees, they were on both sides, the trees were of the stubborn kind, and they had seemingly covered the sky, so as to to form a roof.

Yes rain was filtering through them and so was losing its effect, but was still reaching her drop-by-drop.

She was starting to hate rain, when it touched her skin, she would wipe it off as if it was something foreign. She didn’t like changes, and this rain was changing her, it was a signal to her that there is something beyond those trees from where it was coming. The road was becoming slippery, she hadn’t seen anything like that before, and on every step, she would slip a little off-road. In her stable and preconceived world, this was chaos.

For 19 years of her existence what she had seen was this same old, but straight road; it turned sometimes, but most of the time it was straight. The trees were everywhere, surrounding her like fleas, they had become part of her life, in her small world, they provided her with the roof and the boundaries, they told her how to walk in straight line.

When she was small, around 10 or maybe 11 she stumbled against them, they blocked her way, and at that time she knew that the only way to go through is straight, and so she had been walking straight since then, but today it was different there was something coming from beyond those trees, which was unconceivable. THE RAIN.

One thing is for sure, she was not prepared for it, it was increasing in speed, and the trees were having difficult time stopping it from getting to her, it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to wipe every drop from her body, they were everywhere, she was feeling uncomfortable. So at once she decided I should take refuge under a tree, So she ran…

Her loneliness had deeper underpinnings, although there were trees, they only reacted when she changed her course. In time, she had realized that her existence is for herself only, that she was lonely. However, recently she had started enjoying her loneliness; she had become her own best friend.

However, this time, the rain which was now swift had compelled her to take refuge under a tree. She reached a tree but didn’t stop running, she thought that it will embrace her, but she was wrong she stumbled again. This time the tree hit her with such power that she lost all her senses, in time she recovered. She had tears in her eyes, she was crying. She took a step back, it must have been the rain, she slipped and fell on her back, but what she saw changed everything. The rain had made inroads and the roof at this point was a little shattered, So the first time in her life, she saw beyond the trees. She saw the SKY.

The limitless sky!!! She saw a truth beyond what she conceived to be true, she saw everything, which she shouldn’t have seen, and it was for just a moment, because the trees were quick enough to cover it again. Nevertheless, that was enough for her, for the first time in her life, she was FREE.

The Song of the Sea

2009-10-26T09:19:00.003-07:00

“The sea returns whatever it takes from you “– that’s what people say. And that’s what Aman believed in the last days of his life.

Aman – 28 years old, a scholar from IIT and an MBA from IIM- A, had everything in life. He was smart, educated, rich, had a great job at a foreign bank, and was the most eligible bachelor in town. But above all, he had Avantika – his childhood love. For him, she was the most beautiful girl on the face of the universe. They were family friends and their relation dated back to almost more than a decade. It was the kind of love story which is written in Heaven.

“Avantika – short, plump and innocence personified.” Aman thought.

He sunk his feet deep into the sand and felt them escape through his toes as the waves retreated.

This was the very place where he saw her last, heard her voice for the last time, felt her warmth and smelled her tears. This was the place where he had promised her that they would meet again – in some other world …

The thoughts came gushing along with the waves. Each wave brought a fresh memory along with it, her contagious smile, her kohl eyes, her frizzy hair, her tantrums, her agony, her death.

“Huh!” Aman let out a deep sigh.

“How could I ever forgive myself?” he questioned himself.

Everything was the same. The sea, the coconut tress, the hotels, the star studded skies, the smell of dried fish – Everything but Avantika!

One mistake of his and things changed like day changes to night.

Aman was in USA for work. It was in the month of January, last year. He was almost freezing to death, with the mercury plummeting down to -13.

He picked up his cell phone and managed to dial a number with his numb fingers, which he felt had been cut off from his hands.

“Hey Aman!” answered a girl in an American accent.

Well, that was Christine, the only good friend cum guide, Aman made on his 3 months official tour.

“Hey yourself, Chrrr-istine” Aman stammered. “How do you guys survive here?” he asked.

“We drink silly, silly!” Christine jeered back.

“So, what are you waiting for? Come over to my apartment and don’t forget to bring the thing which keeps you guys warm” Aman stammered again.

That was it, a small private party, music, wine, popcorn, a movie and then - THE MISTAKE.

Next morning, Aman woke up with a heavy head but was still feeling warm. It was a clear morning. Christine was gone, but had left a note.

“Sorry Aman, it should never have happened.” The note almost shouted out the truth.

The entire night replayed itself clearly in his mind and Aman’s lungs filled with guilt. All of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe.

“Oh! Avantika” he gasped.

He picked up the phone and dialed her number.

“Hello” Avantika answered in her sleep.

“I love you baby” Aman said almost choking and fighting his tears back.

“Baby, its 2.00 am in

India

”

“Oh! Right, I just wanted to tell you that I love you”

“I love you too honey. I need to sleep, have an early morning presentation”

Aman tried to hold back his tears with all his might. He knew that Avantika had this magical ability to read his mind, even if he sat on some other planet in some other galaxy.

And under no circumstance, could he succumb.

“Good night, honey, see you soon” Aman switched off his cell phone.

That day, he decided that he would never mention this to Avantika. She would be shattered, and the thought of losing her was already shattering him to pieces.

“Ouch!” something pricked him.

A crab was biting his toe. May be even the crab was trying to bring him back to the present. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I have killer her” he shouted to the sea.

“I gave it to her, gave her the virus”

“Take me to her please”

He shouted at the top of his voice.

The sea seemed to respond back. The sizes of the waves doubled.

“Why did you take her away? She didn’t even know anything about it” Aman sobbed.

Aman clenched the sands in his fist with all his power. But, he was drained off all of it. The sand escaped from his hands, just like Avantika escaped from his life.

He was in the last stage fighting against the deadly virus. A year back he was detected HIV positive.

But he had already passed it to Avantika and pushed her towards death by then.

Aman plunged his hands inside his shirt, and slowly pulled it out - A picture frame.

Avantika was smiling through it as Aman was trying to make a funny face.

Her smile was infectious, he always thought. The smile which had swept him off his feet, which could make his heart stop beating, which became so difficult for her during her last days.

She loved the sea. She used to say that the sea had its special song for everyone and for every mood.

“Listen to the song of the sea” she would tell Aman during their happy days.

She wanted to die here – on this beach. That was her last wish

“Don’t let me die in a hospital room” she had pleaded to all.

“Please let me watch the waves, smell the salt, hear the song of the sea while I end my journey” she requested Aman, when he tried to protest.

And just before breathing out her last breath, she had shut all her pains in her eyes and just had one question written all over her face- distorted with lesions.

“Why Aman?”

He bowed his head and looked into the picture. A tear dropped on her smile.

“I hope you have forgiven me by now” Aman spoke through his tears.

“I’m coming to get you my baby” he said firmly.

He rested the photo frame, face down on his chest and lied down on the sand.

The waves washed over him……. The sea sang its last song.

The gift to be given.

2009-10-18T01:51:00.000-07:00

It was early morning.It might be 2 'o' clock or 3'o'clock not more than that.Sam,was looking at the picture on the wall.It was the family photo.His family is not too big,just he,his mother and father.And it happened to be his parents wedding day:
12.12.1932.

Sixteen years has passed since their married life.
Sam too has brought a gift for them and was just thinking of a special way to give in.
How much he loved them.He had no friends,he would not mingle easily in fear that they would tease him.His parents were his only friends.
He loved his parents so much that even the distance between the heaven and hell would not suffice.

He might be 14 but even now he is afraid of dog's bark,darkness,horror movies........ the list would be too long.
He even felt sorry for himself,but he couldn't help it.
The consequences are many:
One day during his English class at school,a long ago, an incident happened which made him popular as the
"the coward of the class"shortly CC.
Everyone called him like that from that day on, even his juniors.Though it was so long the name remains as such because even now he is like that
as the incident goes.....
One fine warm sunny day,after taking the lunch Sam went to his English class.His teacher was teaching him grammar,according to him grammar was of the least importance and of no real use,as he supposed that he knew English very well.
His lunch too was his favorite,so he had sure that there was not a bit left
His mind swayed he was just looking this side and that side and finally was dozing,
At that time to his unfortunate a great lizard fell right in his head,
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
He yelled
and there was a roar of laughter
From that day on his name became like that,even the teachers called him like that.
He did not like that,but everyone called him like that,so he remained secluded.
Every time someone calls him that way and teases him he would cry to his mother and father.

He again looked at the photo with utmost love and respect that someone might think that he is actually looking at persons.

He was just thinking of how to deliver the gift and was glancing here and there
There lied the old news paper ,not very old it was the day before paper.
He just took it.

The front page had just one news
Jews become prey for the Nazi:
The rate of Jews death has been on the increase since the last two months.Now special order has been given by the Nazi government to enter into Jews residence and......
it went on.
It covered nearly the whole page
Won't these people change thought Sam.

Sam too is a boy of Jewish parentage.He lived in a place where may Jews lived.
But the Nazi had not started their attack yet,they may start it later,one month later,or tomorrow or even today,who knows.
Many people has already fled and Sam's family too would be leaving that day or the next day.
Their area was the only place where the Nazi has not yet started the attack.
It would be their next target.
They very thought terrified the Coward of the Class.

But Sam had other important things in his mind,like his parent's wedding day.
How can he give it he just was thinking..
Can he just jump in and bang the door and give them the gift.
He had taken nearly a month selecting the gift,it was a heart with two doves sitting symbolizing peace and the intense love for his parents.
He could not wait any longer he is just going to bang the door jump in wake them up and give the gift.

He was about to open the door.He touched the door knob he felt that it was very cold.No sooner his hand had touched the knob he heard footsteps,someone was banging against his house door.
Could it be.........

No,he don't want to imagine.
He just wanted to hide.
But he could not move.
Bang !!!!!!!!!!!
the door had been opened there were footsteps there could probably be 4 or5 persons running.
Aaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!
he heard his mother yelling.
A breaking of glass.
chaos
and a long deep shot,
and further more chaos,
and he heard his father shout
"Run Sam,run.........."
and another long shot
and a great yell.......

Again chaos .
Does that mean his parent's are dead
Could this possibly be a dream.
He just went towards the photo and glanced at it.
Again he heard the footsteps
but he could not do anything
"Mum"....."Dad" he whispered and hugged it
Bang!!!!!!!
the men were there too,
"But look how pale and frightened he look" said one of the four.
Sam began to shiver.
One man who seemed to be the leader asked"Hay Dick can we spare this little kid"
A man replied probably Dick,"No,certainly not if he is a Jew"
Of course he is..
look at the photos it is those stupid Jews we killed and he laughed.
The laugh echoed............
again Sam took one look at the photo,he felt something,
"It's my chance now I will kill him"
He raised the gun.......
Sam looked it is this very stupids who killed his dear mum and dad.
Something striked him he did not know what he was doing.
The man fired
Sam dived
"Hey look at this kid doing gymnastics""I will have a try ".said another .
And fired his pistol
but before that Sam had taken his hunters gun and took another huge jump and fell head long over two men knocking them down while their pistol fell away,
he just fired vaguely at the other two,
The four had not expected this sudden attack from the little cowardly boy.
Though the two did not die the injury was sure severe they just collapsed.
Meanwhile Sam turned towards the other two without pistol and fired
while the other two who were injured fired at him hitting at his leg,and the man fell down,
he grabbed the gift and fired vaguely at the 4 again and ran.

He ran ,
ran,
ran.........
to gift the world with
peace,love,friendship and courage.........

Maybe he is still running.

A pinch in the dark

2009-10-11T11:56:00.000-07:00

I rubbed my feet repeatedly against the mass of sand, which much more felt like millions of busy ants on my skin, in an attempt to ascertain my existence. Waking up from a bad dream when I was younger, I would pinch myself to make sure that the pitch darkness of my room was a reality, and that it wasn’t a daunting sequel to nightmares where ghouls would come out of the abyss and continue to choke the air out of me as my bi-nightly visitors usual did.

I am alone on this secluded beach, where I can see the waves and the gold of the sand, but I cannot hear a thing! No. That would be lying. I am alone, aside from the girl in the frame, and all I hear are my thoughts, which circle me stroking my hair as a mother would. My mother is dead. When she died, I pinched myself, and I felt tremendous pain. So, I knew that it was real, and that she was gone, and that I was stuck, stuck with his penis inside me every other night. See, he alternated with the ghouls; the nights when they would give me a break, he would come and do the haunting in their place. Sometimes, he would fall asleep inside me, and I would feel his spilt milk filling me up as if I were a bowl of Fruit Loops. No, actually it felt more like glue. You know the kind you get when you’re in primary school? Also equipped with a pair of safety-scissors, you craft something beautiful out of colorful paper so your parents could ouh and ah over it. Yeah, that kind of glue. I was glazed by my father’s glue, and he would call me by my mother’s name.

The girl in the frame is gorgeous. Red hair that flows down to her back, ocean blue eyes reminiscent of flying saucers; her lips are a natural red, plump like a berry ready to be plucked. She looks so much like me, down to the scar on her left collarbone. But, how can she be me? She looks so sure. I’m not sure about anything anymore. I can’t even hear the ocean, but it’s moving; I can’t even feel the air on my naked breasts.

The glass frame is in pieces! I took the picture out and threw it in the ocean; they’re both part of the same unreality. Jagged edges across my wrists, I see blood, but feel no pain. I feel no pain!

The Best of Times

2009-09-27T12:44:00.000-07:00

James Patterson was failing to grab Akruti’s attention for the very first time in his writing career. But she doubted Patterson’s writing skills had anything to do with it.
‘All this noise’ she sighed, attributing her lack of concentration to the sounds that drifted in from the adjacent room.
People laughing, talking in loud voices, clatter of dishes…
It sounded like a small party in progress which in actuality it was.
None of this was new to her though. This is what always happened whenever they came down for a visit. It was a re-union of sorts.
Dr Sen was her dad’s college friend and both families had been close for years now.

But strangely enough she couldn’t relate to the merriment. She had refused to join them an hour back citing a very lame excuse(that of reading her book). It was hard to believe that people could actually be so happy and contented. It was as if there was not a care in the world-no grief, no suffering, no problems or any nagging doubts.
Maybe she lived in a different world altogether.
Yawning slightly she put the book aside and looked out the window.

‘I need a walk.’ she thought.

After having changed her clothes she made her way towards the bed to retrieve her cell-phone. She was about to stuff it in her pocket and leave when something inside her half-open travel bag glinted in the fading rays of the sun.
Curious she inserted her hand inside it and brought out a silver photo-frame.
‘Of course.’ she thought. She had brought this thing with her even to this short trip which didn’t make any sense.

The last thing she needed was a reminder of the painful truth.
It was a picture of both of them. He was forcing a huge piece of cake into her mouth and even though there was an expression of shock on her face, she could also discern the slight smile that was playing about her own lips.
It was taken on her 20th birthday two years back.
These words were scribbled at the edge of the frame-

~THE BEST OF TIMES~

‘What a lie!’ she thought.

2

The beach was almost empty as she had assumed. This was the wrong time of the year to come down here in the first place.
So no tourists. Not many of them anyway.
She only noticed a few fishermen tugging at a huge fishing-net at a distance and a few other people most of whom appeared to be locals.
She saw a family of three splashing in the waves, a couple of kids, a middle-aged guy and a solitary panipuri-vendor.
And this suited her just fine.
It was just her and the sea. Just like old times.
She sighed and inhaled deeply. The sea smelled the same.
Slipping off her pink flip-flops she bent down and rolled up the edges of her jeans and moved forward fearlessly.
The warm waves lapped gently at her feet. Then as she kept going forward the waves grew more frolicsome. But she didn’t care.

Nothing had changed since the last time she was here. The beach,the way the sand felt beneath her bare feet, the way she loved the wind messing up her hair. Nothing.
And yet something felt different. Something had changed.
And that something was probably-her.
And suddenly everything came back to her in a flash-the happenings of the past few months-the day she found out about him, their confrontation, the way he had shouted at her blurting out all those ugly truths, the way she had walked away without a word, the way she had still waited for the call which never came, the way her parents started feeling anxious and decided to bring her here to ‘take her mind off things’.

‘Excuse me…’

This brought Akruti back to reality and she turned her head to find a middle-aged man clad in a full-sleeved white shirt and a pair of black trousers looking at her curiously. In the brief moments he seemed to be scrutinizing her,she took in his disheveled appearance and surprisingly grey eyes.
He was the same guy she had spotted strolling casually along the beach a few moments ago.
Now that she looked carefully at him he didn’t look middle-aged to be precise-maybe 35 or 36.

Akruti suddenly felt a little wary.

This must have been evident from the look on her face ‘cause the stranger shrugged and said ‘It’s just that your shoes are about to be er engulfed by the waves.’
And sure enough as Akruti turned around she found both her slippers afloat on water and steadily drifting away a little distance from where she stood.
Without a second glance at the man she made a dash across the waves and picked them up. A few seconds more and they would’ve been lost to the sea forever.
She put them on and started walking away from the sea.
How had they managed to drift away? She had placed them carefully on the stretch of sand she thought was safe from the water.
She always did the right things didn’t she? There was nothing in this world that she trusted more than her own judgement.
She was always right. Everybody said so.
So why was everything failing her? Or was she failing herself?
And suddenly without knowing it she sank to the ground on her knees. Her body could support her weight no longer. She didn’t know what was the right thing to do anymore.
She hid her face in her palms.
She had never been the one to mope. She was always a ‘strong girl’, just like her mother believed.
Maybe she was wrong, wrong throughout.

And just like that the tears came-the ones she had been holding back all these months.

‘Take this.’ someone said in a deep, soothing voice.

Akruti looked up to find the same man who had informed her about the slippers holding out a kerchief.
Oh god she hadn’t even said a ‘thank you’ to him and just walked away like that.

‘I’m so..sorry… I just forgot….thank you.’ Her vocabulary was failing her for the first time.
The man just looked at her for a while and then repeated what he had said earlier…
‘Go on…take it.’
And this time she obliged. She took the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes with it. But that did not stop the tears.
Instead she started crying even harder.

The man did not leave her side nor did he say anything. But he just stood there staring at the open sea with his

hands in his pockets while she kept crying.

It was embarrassing to cry in front of a complete stranger. But somehow it also felt highly satisfying.

‘Thank you.’ She finally looked up and held out the handkerchief to the man who just shook his head.

‘No you keep it.’

‘I can’t. It’s yours.’

‘Never mind that. It’s just a piece of cloth.’ he insisted.
And giving her an uncertain look started to walk away.

It was weird how a few minutes earlier Akruti would’ve given anything to be alone on the beach, disturbed by no one or nothing.
But right then as she looked at the stranger’s back she wanted anything but to be on her own.

‘Wait.’ She shouted out over the sound of crashing waves not sure whether her voice would reach him across this distance.

But thankfully enough it did ‘cause he stopped in his tracks, turned around and looked at her.

3

The sand still felt warm from the afternoon heat of the sun. But it had started to cool down. The wind was a bit stronger now but she liked the way it blew her bangs out.

Sitting right there far away from home with a total stranger, watching the progress of the sun along the western sky, Akruti felt a strange sense of calm spreading through her. It felt as if it were healing her from within.

‘So…’ said the man finally breaking the silence and interrupting Akruti’s chain of thoughts.

‘Boyfriend troubles?’ he asked without looking at her.

Akruti smiled.

‘Can’t there be anything else troubling a girl in her twenties except boys?’

‘Well..’ he mused… ‘there could be I guess.’
‘…If you’re either on drugs or pregnant’ He added.

Akruti glared at him.

He just shrugged.

‘I was just trying to cheer you up.’

‘Wow that’s a real nice way of doing it.’ she said sarcastically.

He looked at her squarely in the face, his expression serious.

‘I’m right ain’t I?...someone ditched you and that’s why you were crying so hysterically before.’ He said.

This time Akruti couldn’t avoid the question and strangely enough she didn’t even want to.

‘I ditched him.’ she said stoically.

‘Why?’ came the counter-question.

‘He was two-timing me.’ she said simply.

‘Ouch.’ he said.

‘I know.’

‘It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about this.’ the man said wrenching his gaze away from Akruti and concentrating on the panipuri-vendor instead. A group of teenaged girls had gathered all around his tiny stall by this time.

A few moments of silence followed.

‘It’s not his fault. Who’d want to stay with a control freak like me?’
She said bitterly.

‘I used to call him to wake him up for college, nag him 24*7 to finish his assignments on time, be more serious about his life and career…’
She went on.

‘I didn’t even allow him to get as physical with me as he wished to…now who’d want to put up with all this crap?’

She finally looked at him.

‘Do you think this is why he cheated on you?’ he asked.

‘He shouted at me saying all those things.’

She tried to swallow her tears back but couldn’t.

‘He looked so angry…’ she sobbed pitifully.

‘I..it felt like there was nothing in this world….he hated more…’

‘All those times were a lie weren’t they?..’

‘I lived a lie for 3 years..’ she continued sobbing.

‘I’ve never quite liked the beach.’ he said suddenly.

Akruti looked at him.

‘I’ve hated the sea ever since I was a kid. I feared I might drown.’ He continued.

‘But then Meera came into my life and things changed. She loved coming here on short trips, gorging on sea food,clutching my hand and walking barefoot on the sand.’

‘And slowly I fell in love with the place too. We used to come down here every year...until..’ his voice trailed off.

‘Until?’ Akruti asked breathlessly.

….until she fell sick.’ He sighed.

‘She died of cervical cancer last year.’

Akruti felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

‘The 7 years I had with her were the best years of my life. We shared everything-the good times, the bad times,the sadness and laughter….
And every one of those moments are dear to me. ‘Cause being with her made me happy.’

‘The thought that I’d never get to hear her laugh again does hurt. And I wonder why I’m still alive…’

‘And it is only then that Esha’s face comes into view and I get my answer.’

‘Esha….my 5 year-old.’ He smiled.

Akruti just stared at him.

‘So would you say that all the times I spent with my wife were a lie too?’ he finally asked her.

She had no answer.

‘He was the wrong guy to be with. But you did love him, didn’t you? And that can never be a lie.’

And suddenly she understood what he was trying to tell her.

Even though it was meant to end in heartache all those moments she shared with him had given her memories to be treasured for a lifetime.

Maybe right then they were causing her a lot of pain. But someday she’ll realize the significance of it all.

She could see the silver photo-frame in her mind's eye-

~THE BEST OF TIMES~

Maybe it wasn’t such a lie after all.

As Dark As A Rainbow's Shadow

2009-09-08T22:01:00.000-07:00

Tired as a log, I walk to the beach. I stray with the ocean and my thoughts engulf me...

A conversation’s being born in my mind. Frankly, I can’t make much sense of it.

(The questions are arbitrary. The answers? (Wicked smile!))

‘You seem to have lost a lot. Now, is this all you have?’

‘Never felt fuller.’

‘You look bright today. How many suns have been warming you?’

‘Ask the sunflowers in my field. Each owes a thousand.

Yeah, I’ve somehow beaten Khaled Hoessini. It’s all about a million splendid suns.’

‘That’s a new smile that I see. Owe it to something? Or even better, someone?’

‘Yeah. To the zombie trying to suck your blood and pluck your fingers off.’

‘Define happiness.’

‘Sensuality in closed eyes.’

‘And how would you describe these thoughts that you have?’

‘As dark as a rainbow’s shadow…’

I won the bet

2009-09-03T11:36:00.001-07:00

I knew that day was going to different in some way.

Especially after the last encounter at the hotel, something different was certain. What happened at the hotel had not happened at the movie a month earlier. Despite of the fact that there was a better chance of things happening…

There was darkness… there was noise that would have subdued our own voices… there was cold air conditioning and our bodies were yearning for some warmth. Our bodies brushed regularly; a bit deliberately and a bit unintentionally.

Moreover, despite the fact that we wanted something to happen… at least I did.

However, nothing happened… and more happened in the hotel where none of all that was present. I had my doubts about what I wanted. I wanted her but there was some hesitation. I did not want to scar her.

I knew the next day was going to different in some way.

I picked her up from her friend's place and we headed to the beach. A lot was going through my mind concerning work and personal life… If it were on me, I would even have thought of skipping this meeting but I had committed to come.

And especially after the hotel incident, I wanted to meet her more. I knew the next day was going to different in some way.

The plan was definite… there was no plan. We wandered a bit on the road in my car before eventually deciding to go to the beach for a walk. The sun was going down on the furthest corner perhaps in a shy anticipation of what was about to happen. The water was colder than I had expected and the beach was almost deserted. There was a distance of a couple of feet between us as we walked talking nonsensical things as always.

I said some stupid things on a girl that was walking on the beach other than us. She was alone, had her long hair flying open and was walking fast. I told her that I thought the girl looked like a beldam to me… she must be one or else why would she be walking alone on the beach with her hair open and without looking anywhere else. She declined my theory completely and we walked on.

The sun had gone to hide behind the horizon. Darkness was pitching in, water was getting colder and wind was getting stronger. There was a distance of almost a foot between us as we continued to walk on the beach. Somebody had called on her cell phone. She talked for a couple of minutes while I looked at her. I was conscious of the movements around us, she was not. I thought of problems at work but waved the thoughts away. She was trying to explain her point to whoever was on the phone. I was not interested. The weather was pleasant and demanding a bit of attention while she was busy.

She hung up and smiled at me. I raised my eyebrows to show my disliking for her entertaining the call as I had put my own cell phone in the car. She shrugged and my artificial disliking disappeared. We walked a little more. The distance between our bodies decreased. Her hand looked for my hand, it was in my pocket. She pulled it out and held it. That was her way of getting things done… if it is your right, you should snatch it. Holding my hand while we walked on the beach was her right and she took it.

We walked a bit more before she announced that she was tired. We proceeded to the benches at the corner and sat on a cleaner one.

By then it was completely dark around us and quite cold. When we sat on the bench, there was only a distance of a few inches between us. I made sure that the distance was eliminated. We sat there silent… body to body… soul to soul… spine to spine…

‘Can angels sit spine to spine?”

We sat with only one belief. Another kind of love and compassion is not based on something appearing beautiful or nice, but based on the fact that the other person, just like oneself, wants happiness and does not want suffering and indeed has every right to be happy and to overcome suffering. We wanted happiness and an end to our sufferings. I from the suffering of my thirst… she from the suffering of being incurable romantic.

She pinched me in the arm… not for the first time. I did not react. She pinched harder… I still did not react.

“No you can’t do that… you will lose the bet!"

She teased me. I knew I could win the bet any time I wanted but it was not just a bet that was going to take place. It was not just ego at stake. It would have taken me a minute to win the bet if it were some random girl and would have ended the story right there and then but there I knew that would only be a beginning.

I knew that predictions would become post-dictions, equations become justifications. I would turn reckless and mutter like gamblers who cannot stop betting. Not because they are rational but because the cosmos is irrational. Or perhaps not because the cosmos is irrational but because I am rational.

I did not want to begin…

I did not want to begin because I did not know where it would end.

It began.

I won the bet…

It was her first kiss… her lips were warm and soft… nubile and juvenile. She hesitated in opening her mouth and did not use her tongue. For some it could be a lame kiss for she was not an expert but it was not lame.

My hands gripped her waist and brought her nearer. I gave her a tight hug, which she needed desperately. That gave her a bit of confidence and she caught her breath once again. We had forgotten the bet by then and it was not important anymore.

I saw her melting in my arms… I felt her losing consciousness… I felt her losing control. I felt her giving in. to her the first surrender was the final surrender. Yes, she was the kind.

two years later

I sit here with a picture of us in my hands and I don't recall a single dull moment between us. We were what everyone craves to be. We were so perfect. We had everything to make an ever after and yet we drifted apart distant. I miss her today. I miss her everyday. She was a friend. She was a confidant. She was my soul mate. I think I did love her. I loved her very much.

A Fantasy

2009-09-01T23:02:00.000-07:00

The back-waters of Kerala; a boat rowing down the waters, cutting the reflection of the coconut trees in-halves, the long leaves bowing to acknowledge our presence. Dried leaves, yellow and dead, shed and rest on the still water. The water looks dark and unfathomable under the shades. You sit on a wooden plank opposite to me, your hand splashing the water. Water straining through your fingers, strands of weed and algae stick to them, you don’t bother. Ripples escape your fingers and follow the larger ones created by the boat. Your eyes follow those ripples until they slowly die down into nothing but a flinch of the stillness that the water has wore. I watch you.
Then you lean to one side of the boat, the boat wobbles a bit. You lean back and slide closer to the side. You clutch the wooden plank harder and lean again. This time your hair cascades down and covers your face from me. I get restless for a moment; a dark veil covering your face. The pleats of your saree uncurl, I see fine folds appear on your slender waist, I flinch. You bend further and extend your hands; you reach out for something in the water. The boat wobbles even more, I am worried. I am scared that you will fall, a fear grips me and I try to stand up. I lose my hold the first time but then spread my feet apart and stand. My eyes on you I slowly walk towards you. From behind that skein of hair you say, “Wait”. I stop and look at you with surprise. You reach out and grab something. I see long stems and white petals, water-lilies.
Then you lift your face, the dappled sunlight making it difficult for me to trace the emotions on your face. But you still look beautiful. You move your hands behind your back, hiding something from me. You smile at me, raise your brows and let love dawn on your eyes. You wink and ask, “Scared?”
“Yes.”, I say.
You don’t hide them further. You read the question in my eyes and you show me what are in your hands, a bunch of water lilies. You lift your hands, your bangles clink and flow down your wrist like a stream. Your silver bindi catches the sunlight and throws a glint at me. You wait for me to take those flowers from your hands. I stand there and smile at you. A love unfelt drowns me.
Few wild ducks paddle through, a frog waits on a Lotus leaf to leap into the water, the boat creaks with every pull of the roe, few children stop playing and wave at us. You lie in my arms. You have closed your eyes. I feel the warmth of your breath on me. Your hands lie on my chest; they smell of lilies. Your bangles prick at my chest. I can hear our hearts beat -yours first and mine follows. I put my arms around you and look at the pale moon that shows itself in daylight, on back waters of Kerala.

No Doubt.

2009-09-01T07:14:00.000-07:00

The night was dark and there was a slight drizzle. She stood there shivering in the rain. "If only I had listened to my inner instincts" she thought... but there were no signs of any regret in her eyes. They were as cold as ever. She had believed in the honesty of her guilt and the arrogance of her will but tonight her pride seemed to rule her senses.
He was the perfect one, the one she thought would stand for her whenever she needed a friend. He always knew things in her that even she didn’t know, things that she never saw in herself. He knew when to hold her hands, and when to leave her alone. If there was someone who knew how to cradle her dreams it was him, her perfect man.
That night everything was shattered though. She didn’t know relationship could be so fragile-even they came with a “Handle with care” label. And the shards that flew off it bore the address of her heart and they cut her deep, leaving deep gashes. “How could he do this to me? How can he change so much? “, she kept asking these questions and more as rain seeped deep into her skin. But as everything was clear now, she took refuge in her pride-“Hah! I will do whatever I want to!”
The drizzle was relentless and had almost succeeded to shot a chill down her spine on more than one occasions. As she walked back to her room on the top floor, she checked her watch. It was almost midnight. The whole of the hostel seemed asleep barring few rooms which seemed awake and brightly lit up. Her mobile held close to her breast, felt rough and wet; she felt the keypad against her palm. She unlocked the screen and it came alive, an azure screen and checked the last call to assure her of the grim truth-“Papa”.
“No! You can’t marry him!”, he had said.
“But Papa! We are friends for more than four years and I know him really well! Just meet him once, give him a ...”
“Can’t you hear what I said? I don’t want you to! You want to against my decision, no problem! Do whatever you want to. But let me tell you this, things will difficult between us Neha, really difficult.”
“What’s your problem? Why don’t you understand? Just tell me what’s wrong with him.”
“You won’t understand! I have seen world more closely than...”
“Oh don’t start that now!”
“Ok. You wanted my decision and I gave it to you. Is there anything else you want to discuss?”
“No Dad! You have given me enough for the night! Bye!”, she hung up. She had almost screamed on her perfect man.

He was sad. The Saint Gobain panes had frosted; the drizzle that trickled drew channels of transparency through the fogged panes. He squinted into the darkness of the night as the newspaper lay limp on his lap. So that was the reason why she had stopped her calling so lately, her Neha, her daughter. Someone dearer to her had come between them. And he was jealous of him, the one she called her love.
Shefali left him alone, leaving behind her memories as Neha.It was like she had scraped all the goods she had inside her and put them all in a lump of life that she carried for nine months. The day she gave birth to Neha, she was so happy that she almost suffered a break down on the hospital bed. Their first child, their daughter. And the first day itself, she had started planning for her studies, her birthdays, her wedding. Little did she know that a flesh so malignant and poisonous had already started budding inside her body.
It was after 6 months of Neha’s birth that Doctors said it was too late. The cancer had spread through her body with her womb as the epicentre. The girl child was lucky as it was left untouched by the tumour. And that night they didn’t sleep. She cried the whole night holding Neha in her arms, she cried through her lullaby, she cried while she fed her. She cried when she saw him trying to hush Neha up.
“I am sorry Akash, I am leaving you. I am sorry to give you all this. I am sorry for myself. My girl...”, she didn’t complete her sentence, she was unable to. All she did that night was cry. And he was there awake, next to her, watching Neha swing in her cradle.
She died after 6 months. Li’l Neha kept staring at everything that was happening around her from her father’s arms. How they wrapped her Mama in whites, how mama never opened her eyes, how Papa fed her from a bottle and how he made her sleep when they lifted and carried Mama away on a stretcher.
And since that day, Akash was Neha’s everything. Or Neha was Akash’s everything. They filled each other’s blank spaces that Shefali had left behind. Akash a mother to Neha and Neha taking care of her father like Shefali would have done.
Time framed the memories like a loyal slave. How he helped her take her first steps, her first day at school, her school complains, her questions, her answers, her first steps into womanhood, her first crush, her first confessions, her first dreams, her first rejections, her first celebrations, her everything. She watched him grow some day and turn childish the next. She loved the smell of Amrutanjan her Papa would apply in dollops on Mondays after coming back from office. The smell of his shirt, the sound of his footsteps, his leather strapped suitcase, his black Liberty boots, his aftershave, his favourite songs on the playlist. The fragments of her father sometimes made her forget that she had a mother a long way back.
And today all that was threatened. Some stranger wanted a share of their lives, wanted to share the time that was exclusive to him and his Neha. She had stopped calling on Wednesdays and Sundays. He was afraid that Neha was now slowly slipping away from him. Who then will wake him up every morning? Who then will sit next to him on the dining table? What then will he do on weekends?
He kept speaking to himself the whole night. ” No, it was unacceptable. No one could take her Neha from him. It was against the rules. And he had to stop all this. Fate was not to be allowed to push him another room filled with loneliness. No, he just couldn’t allow Neha to go away from him. He should choose the right one for her, he should choose someone who would keep her happy and let her stay with him. He was his father, how can his decisions be wrong? No, he was right this time also.”
It drizzled the whole night. He slept through the sound of the tiny drops puttering on the panes.
Somewhere under the fabric of darkness, two bodies intertwined, melted into each other, and tried crushing the warmth that had filled the spaces between them. The silence broke shackles with their moans-desires sparked hunger for passion and flesh. Colours flew in front of their eyes as lips dried for a thirst that they never knew existed. Words formed but stumbled upon each other, voices twisted out of recognition, caresses went unfelt. Love trickled as tears in their eyes, pain hid in the folds of their skin, fear crushed beneath the weight of their arrogance and trust. As they rolled on the bed the sheets wrapped around them, covering them from head to toe, throwing them into a strange seclusion- a strange loneliness that only they felt. She cried then, still wrapped around him as he sobbed with his head on her shoulders. As the drops of tears drained each other, forming rivulets of sorrow after mixing with the beads of sweat, somewhere under the fabric of darkness a heart stopped beating- the newspaper fell off his lap as he slept with his eyes on the frosted windows.

No Doubt

2009-08-29T19:25:00.000-07:00

The night was dark and there was a slight drizzle. She stood there shivering in the rain. "If only I had listened to my inner instincts" she thought...

But it was too late to dwell on “what if’s” and “if only’s”; the damage already done.

She knew there was no going back; knew that once she crossed that line and allowed herself to be taken to the edge, normalcy would be no more; nothing but an empty word.

She began walking, along the side of the road; a seemingly endless, desolate stretch. Not knowing where she was going; not much caring if she ever got there; for she was certain where she had just come from, and anywhere was better than there.

His taillights dissolved in the distance behind her, leaving her alone in the darkness. “It can’t be love, if you don’t look back,” she whispered aloud; with no one left to hear her. And though she never said the words, she knew he never had a doubt.

Twenty Pesos

2009-08-16T01:03:00.001-07:00

A rattling sound of a small bell welcomed their arrival to a public market. After they had stepped out of the bus, the first thing she did was scan the alley between the market and the shoulder of the highway. That high pitch bell announced of something so familiar to her, and her eyes was looking for it in which her mind already knew.

There it was, she found it, right next to the public kiosk, right before the surrounding gleeful children. She turned to check if her mother was looking at it, too, so it would be easier for her to make her buy one cone. But her mother was looking straight ahead, oblivious to the alluring chanting of the tiny bell, or at least she appeared to be. She wanted to pull her mother's hand towards the inviting ice cream cart, but her mother overwhelmed her and pulled her instead towards the unkempt, overcrowded interior of the public market.

They walked inside towards the meat section, a basket made of rattan swayed beside her as they waded through the crowd. Her mother released her other hand when they stopped near the end of a long row of tiled unbroken tables. Beef and dressed chickens scattered all over the tables, and parts of pigs hanged still from the long iron bar that ran parallel above the tables. Smell of blood and stale flesh and foul liquids hovered in the air, almost made her puke.

The fat woman with a dull blue apron wrapped around her, which she guessed was one of the vendors behind the long tables, flashed a grin when she saw them. Her mother smiled, too, and greeted each other while she just stood there observing the crowd, the place, the shouting, and the offering and bargaining that polluted the already foul air.

"Is that your youngest, Irene?" the fat woman asked her mother with a voice a little louder than the surrounding noise.

"Yes," her mother replied. "She won't stop asking until I bring her along with me."

"Look at her, she's taller than the last time I saw here. How old is she now?"

"She's eight."

The woman looked down at her and smiled exorbitantly. "Hello, sweetie. What a beautiful girl you've become, honey. You still remember me?"

She responded with a coyly smile and a shaking head. Her mother told her nothing about this woman.

The woman went back to her mother and, in the middle of buying and selling, they were both engrossed by their adult chitchat.

The fat woman handed her mother a plastic filled with chicken wings and pork meat, and followed with yet another exchange of gossip.

When she heard something she didn't understand from their conversation, she lightly pulled twice her mother's long skirt.

Her mother turned her head and looked down. "What is it?"

Casually, she asked, "What is a third party?"

Her mother glanced at the vendor, who giggled and shook her head, and then looked back at her and said, "It's nothing, honey. It's a word that only grown up people talk about."

Her mother and her friend continued talking, but this time their voices were slightly hushed. As her mother handed a hundred peso bill to the woman, she heard yet another new word from the latter. She pulled her mother's skirt again.

"What is it?"

"What's a hoar?"

"What?"

"She said, 'she's a big hoar'. What does it mean?"

Her mother's friend chuckled at her innocence. And she didn't like it. She didn't like the way she laughed. She didn't like her laughing at her. She didn't like her mother's friend. Cautious yet uncertain, she tucked herself closed to her mother's right side, and instinctively gripped her mother's hand. And she stood there staring questioningly at the flabby woman.

Her mother, who grinned along, said to her, "Honey, this is a conversation between two adults, OK? And ---wait, here ---" She fished something from her skirt's left pocket.

She heard the rattling of nickels in her mother's shallow skirt pocket, and turned her head slightly toward where she heard it. The pinched fingers of her mother flew from the pocket to the smirking space before her, and then her mother freed the three 1 peso coins, which landed splendidly to her wide opened right palm.

Her excitement leapt. Her shy face revealed her smile and, in her mind, the floating image of the grainy ice cream enticed her once again. She gave to her mother the rattan basket and, with her fist shut tightly the three coins inside, she ran as fast as she could towards the portable ice cream cart outside.

She waited in line, but when it was about her turn she remembered something. As the boy before her paid his scoop of ice cream, she was just standing there fighting over a decision.

She had made a promise to herself. And she didn't want to break it. She told herself to buy something only if she asked money from her parents. But today she was not asking for it. Her mother gave it to her, just like those many times in the past. And she shouldn't spend them; she had to place them somewhere where she had put those other coins.

The face of the vendor beamed as she looked at him. She peered over the opened aluminum lid, and saw three beckoning colors of inviting ice cream that smelled of mango and chocolate and vanilla. Her eyes glowed and her mouth watered as the cold vapor met her face. And as she was about to give the man her coins, the other barefoot kids rushed toward the ice cream cart from nowhere, their arms heaved their money in the space before the man, and vied for his attention. The man instead entertained the more eager children. She freed herself from the tempting call. She stepped back, turned around, and thrust herself out the small throng of frenzied young crowd.

Along the way back to their house, her mother asked what she had done with the money. She told her she wasn't hungry, and that she was keeping them. And as soon as they arrived home, she dashed inside, up a flight of stairs, and into her room.

She was excited and happy that her savings were increasing. Last week, her mother gave her five-peso coin, and two weeks before that she had dropped two peso coins and two twenty-five cents. Last month she had saved nine pesos and fifty cents. She lied on her bed facing the ceiling above, her mind a dream of beautiful dress and pints of ice cream. But what her young mind didn't see was that her every attempt to free her mind and speak of those words she'd been keeping inside were muffled by the worldly value of her mother's coins.

After some time she stood and grabbed her peggy bank. And through the thin slit along the center top of it, she peeked to estimate her rather accumulated price.

--- END ---

Photograph from http://www.conelrad.com. Please CLICK HERE to visit the source website. For more short stories, please visit my blog by clicking here. Thanks!

She wants to live

2009-08-08T07:10:00.002-07:00

The night was dark and there was a slight drizzle. She stood there shivering in the rain. "If only she had listened to her inner instincts" she was intruded by deafening wailing sound.

She was bewildered as every one around were crying and shouting. She made an effort to ask every one, but nobody responded, she saw her mother was shedding tears, her brother smashing his head against the wall, her small child was gazing the wall, he was unaware of the incident but was sure something's going wrong, she could feel her mother's pain, she wanted to wipe her brother's tears, protect her mother, cheer up her child, but then she realized people were not aware of her presence.

Mansi was reminisced with an incident, she was driving on Glaltula Highway, challenging the speed wind so that she could reach home before 12, she wanted to be on her son's third birthday, she was chasing cool breeze, if only she had to die to reach there, she would even do that, It was almost 11.23, she had to cover an 46.2 km in just a span of 30 minutes, suddenly a very glary head light blinded her way, she lost her control and dashed the huge trailer.
Mansi understood she wasn't alive; she no more belonged to this beautiful place. Being a spirit she couldn't have feelings but water was dripping from her eyes, she couldn't die anymore but she died endlessly seeing her son, if she was alive after other half's death it was only because of her son, she wanted to live not for her but for her son. She cried aloud, but she knew the pain that she left for her son, the pain that she left for her mother, the feelings that she left for her brother, but there was no one to share her grief, although it was nothing in front of her beloved's pain.

She wants to live further, not for herself but for her son, she wants to live.

A Short Love Story

2009-08-05T11:26:00.000-07:00

The night was dark and there was a slight drizzle. She stood there shivering in the rain. "If only I had listened to my inner instincts" she thought. The moment she had slid out of the house she knew it was going to rain but Jimmy was always adamant. He wouldn't leave without meeting her. Poor Jimmy, not his fault entirely, she was equally eager to meet him.

But now, what was she to do? A poor Abyssinian alone in the night in a deserted alley, what could she possibly do? The alley leads to another narrower and darker alley which is the secret meeting place for Angel and Jimmy. Though Jimmy was a Burmese, Angel had fallen for his masculine charms, his brown fur and his athletic body. Besides she never believed in racial discrimination. A cat is always a cat. The drizzle has turned into steady rain and as they say it was raining cats and dogs. She never understood why they say its raining cats. But then humans are like that - always using phrases which never made any sense to her. At this point of time nothing made any sense to her.

She could either continue with her mission to meet Jimmy in the alley or sneak back into the comforts of her home before anyone realises her absence in the house. It was a tough call to make. The heart versus the mind. And finally, like every maiden blinded by the arrows of Cupid she chose her heart. The rain was God's way of testing her she thought, and she was determined not to fail. Not this time. Never. As she turned into the narrow alley she could see the familiar athletic figure of Jimmy. He was waiting for her in the rain. He lifted his right paw to greet her like he always did. Taking long strides, staying close to the sides of the alley she smiled and for the first time in the day purred to herself, confident that she had made the right choice.

Image Courtesy: Big City Small Footprints

serendipity@gmail.com

2009-08-04T07:24:00.000-07:00

It was another lazy afternoon, Aakash was lying flat in his room sleeping as 2^nd half was a GT.His slumber was disturbed by the gtalk notification sound, someone had messaged him.

“Ah…… “,he thought. Should have logged out before I went to sleep. He woke up to see who it was.

It was Priyanka, his pen friend, he had never met her but still she was a very good friend of his. The message said,

“Hi, u there?”

“No”, he replied and went back to sleep.

“Ah cmon how much do u sleep? Today also there’s a GT isn’t it? All u people do is hit GTs and sleep”, came her reply.

“All hard working people deserve a break and we don’t hit GTs everyday”

“Yeah right” she said.

Aakash was a B.Tech student in IIT Kanpur pursuing his degree in Computer Science, computer geek that he was, he had met Priyanka on Orkut and since then they had become very good friends.

Aakash was a very introvert kind of guy. He loved reading, particularly fantasy novels and was a hardcore Harry Potter fan. He was a nerd to be precise and hardly had any friends, not that he didn’t want them, it was just the fact he didn’t talk too much. So, having Priyanka as a friend was very special for him, for she was one who kept talking and talking he loved listening to her, many a time he would remain quite for so long that she would ask if he is still there.

Everything was going very smoothly for Aakash. He was the topper of his class, every professor liked him and he was beginning to make new friends. Suddenly one day Priyanka disappeared from orkut and when he mailed her no reply came, even her mobile no. was not reachable.

It took him a few days for him to exhaust all possibilities of finding her and telling himself that he would not get to see her ever. After that he grew cynical over the attitude of girls and as far as possible avoided talking to them. He concentrated on his studies and nothing else. His CGPA at the end of the four years was 9.35 and he also had scored 99.94% in GATE which ensured him admission at IIT Delhi for his M.Tech. All this success had helped him forget Priyanka and he had become more sensible and started behaving normally and after a very long time he was happy again.

At IITD he met a girl named Ishita, his classmate in the M.Tech course. They became friends and they came very close to each other and Ishita had even started to love him by the end of the two years. When she finally made up her mind to tell Aakash she asked him to meet her one day.

“I wanted to talk to you about something”, she said.

“Talk……why are you behaving so formal?”, replied Aakash.

“Err…….I don’t know how to begin”, she said confused.

“What are you so afraid about……….as if you are going to say ‘I love you’”, he said and chuckled at his own joke.

“Shut up, can’t you be serious sometimes?”

“Hmm what do you think of girls?”, she asked.

“You really want to know?”he aksed.

“Yes”.

Then Aakash told him all about Priyanka and how after that episode he had started believing that all girls are mean and he would never be able to love any other girl.

If Ishita was shocked and devastated she didn’t show it, for she diverted the topic to some other conversation. But as soon as she reached her room, she flung herself on her bed and started crying. She couldn’t think what she would do. She had to make him believe that all girls were not like Priyanka. She was struck with an idea, it seemed implausible but she had to try.

She turned on her computer and logged onto gmail.com and entered the user id as the email of Aakash.Then came the hard part, what was his password. She knew he was a hardcore Harry Potter(HP) fan and even his profile pic on orkut was HP only. She started trying the names of the characters and places in the HP series but every time it said incorrect password. She was about to give up when she entered “balderdash”* as the password and the Inbox opened.

Delighted, she searched his chat history for Priyanka and read all his chats with her. She knew what she had to do. That day in the evening when Ishita met him, she told him.

“I am Priyanka”.

“What??.....Yeah right and I am Shahrukh Khan, nice to meet you”, he commented.

“I am serious”, she said and then started telling him everything she had learned about his friendship with Priyanka from his chats which made Aakash believe that she was indeed Priyanka.

“But your name is Ishita right” asked Aakash.

“Oh c’mon, Priyanka was just an alias”.

“But why didn’t you tell me before”, he asked.

“I didn’t recognize you were the same Aakash”.

“I don’t believe you completely, I need time to think over this, leave me alone for some time”.

“OK” she said and left.

He went to his room unable to think and confused. He turned on his computer, his best friend and decided to check his mail as Google had contacted him for a job and he was in between negotiations with them. He opened his gmail account and was checking his mail when suddenly he saw something at the bottom of the page, it read

“Last account activity 5 hours ago,IP 122.168.191.147”.

“What the hell? “he thought. He hadn’t opened his account for 2 days.”No problem “ he thought. He used his skills to track down that IP to the local network IP of IITD.What he found out was shocking…..it was Ishita’s IP, he remembered her IP because she always connected to his DC++ hub. He figured out what had happened but he wanted to hear it from her. So the next day he called her and asked her to meet him.

“You broke into my gmail account yesterday?” he asked.

“What??......Nooooo……I mean yes”, she wasn’t surprised that he had found out, when Aakash was concerned with computers, the sky was the limit.

“And may I ask why?”

“Haven’t you figured it out?”she asked.

“So I have but I want to hear it from you”.

“Cause I Love you, you dumb”.

“And here I thought no girl will love me ever” wondered Aakash.

“You never gave them a chance”, she said.

“Poor them, lucky you” he said and both of them burst out laughing. After that they got married and lived happily ever after.

Happys Ending.

*balderdash is the password to the Gryffindor common room in the fourth book in the HP series.

The Scars left in Rain

2009-08-03T04:01:00.000-07:00

The night was dark and there was a slight drizzle. She stood there shivering in the rain. "If only I had listened to my inner instincts" she thought as he hurried towards the darkness of her room in a home where every echo, every knock seemed to remind her of him.

That night—it was an awful night, like many nights.

Some of the most terrible dreams she had ever had, and she was known to bad dreams. Everything became all muddled in sync in her latent mind. She kept restless, anxious, really terrified – and then falling back hopelessly to sleep which hardly overcame.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…

The trance like was like quicksand, plummeting her. The trepidation of Steven deserting was apprehending her. Passage after passage, searching in the darkness of her mind, every picture on the wall in that passageway was magical… it was Carol and Steven and their togetherness…

Finally, with a clatter as much of frenzy as of fear she scuffled herself out of it. Lying dumbly bleak in her bed, rubbing her arms to keep warm.

A blank moment.

No reminiscence, a vague ambiance. The household silhouette of her bedroom congealing: tall frames of her artistry, over sized fashion books on a squat crate, the curve of her fashion illustration counter, the genial mass of her computer beside it with the tower of magazines and CDs on the floor. Carol gazed at the picture on her bedside. It was her mother’s. She had stepped out of town for a while, leaving her in charge of her father and siblings. Her mom wore an ivory woven shawl, clutching on it youthfully. Carol had taken after her mother; only in her mother, Carol reflected, it was all warmer, somehow kinder and sweeter. The gaze more gentle, the smile more longing and amused. Looking at her Carol found the ache of loneliness,

almost insupportable.

He smiled at her humbly. “I understand,” he said. “Well let us make the best of what is Carol. Whatever happens, what we go through together will always make us special friends. I often wonder what would ‘us’ be like. I should like to know someday, wouldn’t you Carol?

She nodded in approval, too disturbed to articulate.

Her recollections were pretty much uninvited. All of a sudden she drew the duvet back. Slipping out of bed, no idea where she was headed or why she was crying. She stepped from her room to the hallway. There was that tick tock tick tock breaking the stillness. The noise was irritating. It fogged up her brains. As she sauntered the marble flooring towards the main door she felt cold in her bare feet. The air was idle; her heart pounding fast. Her nightgown so white, it seemed to glow, it seemed to flow around her; she seemed to be whirling in it.

Suddenly, the door flew open and there he stood, with his arms open to embrace her. Carol cried out, “Steven! Steven I love you so much!” Tears pouring out like an unsought tempest.

He looked as alluring as he always did. His white shirt unbuttoned at the top, his chest shadowed with fuzz and his mane flirtatiously gracing in the wind behind him. “Yes! Yes Carol I am miserably in love with you!” he confessed affectionately. Tears filled her eyes, and she ran to be in his arms, she held on hard to him, “Please don’t leave me Steven!

Please don’t go!”… She wept. It was only another dream, evidently. On the contrary it always was a dream. She sat up under the false inkling of that which never was, trying to block out the agony, the dream, the whole thing. Lifting her knees beneath the duvet, resting her elbows on them, screwing her palms against her face.

All questions were to no purpose. She dared not speak not even to herself. She had learnt echoes were gossipers. They talked back when they had to. Lord! Here I am your servant! Your Servant my Lord! What do I do Lord! What do I do? You gave me signs… signs that led me to letting Matt – signs that Steven is the one.. Where do I go from here Lord! Where do I go??

Carol had faith in her Lord. She knew about the goodness of fate and she was ready to wait. She was convinced of her sincerity and devotion.

“Hold on Carol. Hold on…” the voice trailed off and so did she.