Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Random Story #10


“Wake up….open your eyes, gently?” , he opened his weary eyes to be greeted by an unfamiliar face, she looked slightly worried , “where am I” he wondered , “how do you feel?” she continued to speak still quite worried, awareness hit him like a vicious slap, overwhelmed by the noise of the surroundings he felt a surge of acute pain in his head, panic-stricken he tried to sit up but his body was not ready, paralysis gripped him, it was like his entire body had frozen.

“Relax”, she said. “Just breath….inhale and exhale”, he did as instructed. ”Do you feel a little better?” “yeah” “Now try to move your body...slowly”, he lifted himself up, his body was responsive to his great relief. “what happened?”

“You were hit by a car…my car“ “What?” “yeah….you came out of nowhere, right  in front of my car, so I brought you here at the Apollo hospital, I am a doctor here. You have a few physical injuries but the good news is….” “oh no!!!!”, he looked enormously concerned.

“Whats wrong?”, she had a puzzled look on her face. ”How long have I been here?” “About  two hours” “Holy Shit!!!”, he leaped out of the bed and ran out of the room shouting “that is terrible…..that is fucking terrible!!”. Clueless about what just happened she called the nurses to help her stop the man who, as it seemed, had suddenly gone crazy.

As Sam was about to enter the lift he remembered something, he had forgotten to take his wallet, “that’s my Sam eternally absent minded”, his mother would often say.  Sam thought he had already locked the door and the lift was here standing, waiting for him to aboard, it would be a shame to let it just leave, the cramped and dimly lit interiors of the lift suddenly seemed very inviting, who needs a wallet for a little evening jog, his mind was made, he went inside the lift. Sam was not only eternally absent minded, he also possessed a very healthy amount of laziness.

There was a slight chill in the air, winter was about a month away, the breeze made jogging fun. After fifteen minutes a drained Sam decided it was time for a bit of rest. He felt a vibration in his pockets, it was his mobile getting restless. He mined it out of the pocket of his running shorts, it was an unknown number. He got all excited trying to guess who it was on the other end, it was like when he was a kid and he did not know who on the other end of the line was, he had to guess by listening to the voice
“Hello”, Sam answered the call. The voice on the other end was completely unfamiliar, it was  cold and distant. It informed him that his wife was among the four people that had participated in a disastrous road accident, which resulted in her getting terribly injured and loosing a life threating amount of blood, she was lying in the intensive care unit of the Apollo hospital. Apparently Sam’s wife had a very rare blood type and unfortunately the hospital was out it. Fortunately though Sam had the same blood type, he informed the voice that he was on his way. The voice also mentioned that it was very sorry to be the bearer of bad news.

A plethora of emotions swept through Sam, he was not sure what he felt, he decided he needed to hurry, he must go up to his apartment get his wallet and car keys and rush to the hospital. He dashed out of the park into the main road and got hit by a car, the driver happened to be a young girl who was a resident doctor at the Apollo hospital. She took him to the hospital leaving his shattered phone abandoned on the road. Back in the ER once she was sure that he had stabilised she looked for some identification in his clothes, but he had none, Sam had left his wallet in his apartment, so all she could do was to wait for him to regain consciousness.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Random Story #9

It’s my first post after more than an year, I hope I am going to be a bit more regular henceforth. In the past one year I did achieve a major milestone, successfully completed my engineering. This also means that my college days are over… least for the time being. Now that my college hostel will no longer give me shelter I have relocated to Noida.

Enough about me…..following is my first story after more than an year, it's a short one I hope you enjoy it. For those who are new to my blog feel free to read my older post as well.


“Goodbye”, he uttered his last words to her, as he saw her for the last time. Her eyes were overwhelmed with tears, she looked so sad yet so beautiful.

His eyes were closed, the pain was getting too severe, still he felt her teardrop hitting against his chest, it’s warmth seemed to engulf all the pain. She pressed the knife against his chest, he felt his life oozing out of him. He tried to remain calm, there was no point running from it, the end had come and he needed to embrace it.

‘Did I deserve it’, he wondered.

“You did”, her shaky voice broke the silence of the room.

She lifted the knife stuck in his heart, thick red blood pumped out of the open wound quickly turning his white t-shirt red. Something so horrible could happen to her she had never imagined but life has a way of surprising you. They were a happy family living the perfect life, two kids, a suburban house which was only one mortgage payment away from being their own, that’s when tragedy struck.

On a murky Friday evening her kids were run over by a silver Honda city, the driver was the man she loved, the father of her children, her husband.

The same man lay in front of her today, taking his last breath , her revenge was about to be complete, there was still pain, perhaps the pain had increased, but somewhere deep inside her heart she felt a sense of peace she had not felt since that fateful Friday evening. As she saw the last drop of life being sucked out of him doubt raised its ugly head.

‘Did he deserve it’, she wondered.

“Yes I did”, she heard a voice say.


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Random Story #8

 It's been so long i feel like i am starting all over agin. at one point i thought i was done blogging but fortunately i managed to get a grip of things. i thought i was taking a little break soon enough i was overwhelmed by my laziness, it has an uncanny control over me, but the good thing is that i am back to my blogging ways....i guess i have to do a lot of reading, as i get down to it here is an aptly named story no. 8
As he sat there on the bench waiting for someone to sit beside him, he was thinking of ways to start a conversation, how about the latest terrorist attacks, but that would be too intense. He thought it would be judicious to keep the topic a bit more casual, perhaps he would go with the weather but they were predicting cyclones in the next few days, nothing good could come out of that, he remained as uncertain as ever. He had been alone all his life, his parents died while he was still an infant, leaving behind for him millions in banks and trust funds. At a very early age he learnt that life without parents can be profoundly painful. To escape this pain he drowned himself in his stories. Now at 26 he wished he could do it all over again. Unable to connect with another human being made him suffocate, all the money in the world did not make any difference. His professional life was equally agonizing for him, he had devoted his entire life to writing yet his works weren’t good enough for the publishing world. He had written three novels each one of them inexpedient for the publishers in a different way. They found his books ‘too intellectual’ ,’incredibly complex’, ‘brilliant but lacking a market’, these repeated failure came with the realization that he had no one to turn to for support and advice which further aggravated his anguish. He felt insignificant like a thumb print on the window of a sky scraper. He was desperate to extricate himself from this low point of his life.
Every day in the evening he ventured to the nearby park looking for an opportunity to mingle with his fellow human beings. Unfortunately for him they were few and far fetched and everytime he did get a chance he was too petrified to say a word. Mostly he found himself sitting on a bench and every once in a while a young couple would join him, but mostly they were so busy figuring themselves out he would decided it was in the interest of everyone that he did not interfere, he did listen to their conversations making little mental notes in case he ever was in a similar situation, though he himself was hugely skeptical about his chances, mostly he used them as little events in his stories. He would try to steal glances and whenever he got caught he would leave the bench with a sheepish smile on his face. Sometimes he would visit the coffee shop while returning from the park. Today was one of those days. Everytime he visited a coffee shop he realized why he enjoyed spending time here. It was never too crowded, people kept to themselves and he always got good ideas for his stories here. After a while he saw that the place was full which was quite unusual, he noticed that he was the only one sitting alone as usual.
“Do you mind”, he lifted his head to find a young woman dressed in a formal attire, holding a cup of coffee, standing next to his table. “oh….not at all….go ahead”, he muttered feeling extremely anxious, she smiled and sat down. He wondered if this was the opportunity he was waiting for, how difficult could it be to start a conversation, it was the perfect setting but his mind went blank, on trying a little harder he found his head filled with everything absurd and irrelevant like stupid Viagra commercials and alien abduction stories. He looked at her for help, hoping she would utter something. “Can you please pass the sugar”, he passes it on with a lot of enthusiasm, she poured in a total of three teaspoons, “that’s a lot of sugar….”, he said barely managing to hide his excitement now that he had finally managed to say something. She smiled and said, “it’s been a tough day…”.      
“so the worse your day the more sugar you have…”.                                                                                
“yeah,  something like that but it’s never more than four not even on the worst of days...”                                     
“I hear sugar can make you fat….aren’t you worried…. “, she smiled ,”after the amount of work I do, I feel  I can handle a few extra calories….”                                                                                                                                                                   
“You work around here?”, he said trying to extend the conversation a little longer.   “yeah…..”                                                                                                                                              
“Is it interesting?”      “well….it has it’s moments……what about you?”                                                                          
“I am a writer”     “wow…..that can’t be bad…”                                                                                                            
“You would be surprised how bad it can get……”    “oh……but it seems everybody is getting published these days…”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          
He felt a little humiliated yet managed to keep a straight face, “I was under the same illusion when I decided to enter the profession”, he said with a wry smile.                                                                                                  
“what’s with all this negativity…… are so young you just need to continue writing……I am sure eventually you will get published…”                                                                                                                                                
‘she is so naïve’ he thought perhaps that’s why she is so optimistic, “as you can see I haven’t stopped trying…”                                                                                                                                                                                   
“you have already started  working on your next novel……that’s great…..what’s it about”                                                                                        
“no no…..this is just a short story I am writing for this online magazine…….it’s about a man who is planning his suicide sitting at a coffee shop..”                                                                                                                                          
“huh…..that’s awfully sad…but you know what I find it weirdly interesting…”                                                                           
“I guess…you really are having a bad day…..”, both of them laughed though he was more amused with the discovery that he  actually had a sense of humor.  She looked at her watch.                                                                                                             
“oh dear……my masters give me only tiny windows of freedom… so I better be going…”, both of them looked at each other, he was completely unsure what his next move should be, he wished if it was one of his stories, soon an extremely uncomfortable silence erupted  between them. As she was about to leave she said, “I am  Ria”                                                                                                                                            
“I am Jai”, he said almost immediately without waiting for her to stop                                                                    
“It was nice meeting you Jai”     “nice to meet you too”. As he saw her leaving he couldn’t help but wallow in his happiness, all his disappointments seemed to have vanished, he felt completely rejuvenated, ” perhaps this is what they called human connection”,  he wondered but as he saw her merge into the sea of people outside he realized something important, he might want to meet her again, he dashed out of the café before it was too late.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Random Story #7

It’s been a while since I posted something, it’s not like I was busy or anything, I just didn’t feel like writing or reading, but as they say better late than never so here I am with a new story. Actually it is an extension an older story called “Hidden Intetions”, but don’t worry you don’t have to read it if you haven’t because this story stands well independently too. In any case if you do wish to read it here is the link. 


He was standing there looking at the picture, completely mesmerized by his own creation. Oh what a face he wondered looking at the portrait, and those eyes , so expressive yet so mysterious, as if telling the whole story but holding back the climax. The art gallery was filled with people, his paintings were a huge hit, most of them had already been sold, it was beyond his expectation, after all this was only his first exhibition. The painting that generated the most buzz was the very painting he was so lost in, the girl in the painting was the woman he loved, this was his special gift for her, no matter how much people were ready to pay for it, he rejected all the offers, it was because of her that this exhibition was held in the first place. She was the one who had encouraged him to pursue his passion or else he would still be doing his boring accounting job. He still couldn’t believe how he could be so lucky to have someone like her in his life, and this portrait was his way to show off to the world what he had and no matter what they did he was never going to let her go.
She was looking at the knife, watching the blood on it’s blade gave her a strange satisfaction, she knew she was not supposed to indulge herself in such a way but she could not help it, she barely escaped the last time, no matter how much she wished she was not going to kill again she had promised herself, she had a killer’s desire but she lacked a killer’s brain, she knew if she ever dared to kill again she would surely be caught, so she had to control herself for her own sake, moreover she was in a fulfilling relationship, he loved her madly and she knew he would never cheat on her like her  ex- husband. She was busy preparing a fancy meal, it was time for celebration, the exhibition was a success and both of them wanted to celebrate it alone, in a rush to finish the preparation she had cut her finger and now she was completely engrossed in it. She knew what she had to do next. She took out a cane and started hitting herself with it, this is the only way she knew to distract herself from the fantasy and get back to reality. He had often asked her about these injuries, she lied to him that her ex-husband used to physically abuse her.
It was a night of double celebration for him. She did not know it yet but a year ago on this very day he had seen her for the first time and had fallen in love with her instantly. She had come to his accounting firm because his firm did the accounts for her husband who was apparently murdered. He took it as a sign, the universe had given him a chance and he had to make the most of it, a year later they were together and his life had already changed forever. He decided he was going to ask her to marry him, no other day was better suited to do this, he had always been sure he was going to do it and now that he was successful there was no point in waiting. He stopped at the jewellery store and bought a beautiful diamond ring for her.
Something was wrong, no matter how many times she hit herself with the cane, the feeling refused to die. It had been more than an year since she had killed her husband, the desire was too strong, she felt her sane self being swallowed by it, she knew there was no point fighting it anymore. It was too late, she no longer had any control over herself. She went back to the kitchen picked up the knife and waited for him to return.
He could not wait to get back home, there was too much excitment, he drove the car as fast as he could. Ten minutes later he was there. He put the ring in his pocket, took the bottle of champagne he had bought and went toward the door.

Monday, January 25, 2010

55 Fiction

 55 Fiction is a form of microfiction that refers to the works of fiction limited to a maximum of fifty-five words. I must say it is tougher than I thought it would be, nonetheless it was fun.


She stood there looking at the motionless body of her tormentor. The weapon, a steel rod, still in her hands. A nervous smile was on her face, she was not sadistic, but she refused to live in fear. First two strikes were a miss, the third was on target and the mouse never moved again.