Archive for the ‘Stories’ Category
The end…
Heavy heart..Unspoken words.. Flashing memories..
Rising from the crumbles
The rain started drizzling all of a sudden. The streaks of water drops were lashing and swaying amongst the winds.
It was getting cold. I remained lied down in bed. As though my mind was sleeping and body awake. I closed my eyes. Some black and white images got rendered across them. I opened my eyes. I couldn’t survive it anymore. I enabled the songs from my Walkman phone. Loud. So that it could drive away all the sleepiness from my mind. I closed my eyes. No images now. Great. I succeeded. It was then the rain started.
I got up heavily and moved over to the window. Slightly opened one inch of it. I sniffed a bit. To smell the earth. I couldn’t get anything. Maybe, it got dried up too. Just like the tears of broken heart.Maybe the earth too cried. She couldn’t control the spinning neither the revolution. She was destined. To live without day and night and to witness everything that goes on within her and on her surface. Read the rest of this entry »
The Diary of an American Housewife
The streaks of the sun said good morning to me through the window. The kitchen was now brightly lit. It looked like one of those photos taken by the professionals. Everything was perfectly arranged in the cupboards. Except for the few dishes in the sink.
I went to the dressing wardrobe and picked up my diary from beneath. The environment was perfect for unloading the words.
“This is my daily job. To get up early in the morning, prepare the tea and breakfast, and then this dish cleaning after he left to office. Sometimes, I start on the laptop before i wash the dishes. They can wait, but not my parents. It would be late night for them. Just delaying their early sleep and sitting by on the machine, waiting for their daughter to call up. Then around 11, I take my bath and have to prepare for lunch. The timings of both were never consistent. The latter would be skipped sometimes, if at all he never knocks the door at noon. And then, the whole of the afternoon dedicated to myself, my thoughts and just me. It had become my routine.
The afternoon thoughts have now blended into my mind and body. It was the same everyday. As in the famous film Zanjeer, what is it that I don’t have? I live in an average rented house. I have a loving husband who takes extreme care of me, and who earns dollars and takes me out on most nights and weekends in our car. I have a bunch of friends who keeps asking about me and the luxuries I enjoy at this abroad home. The missing of parents and relatives is natural for a newly married woman as the pains during the childbirth. What then is missing? Read the rest of this entry »
Mamma…
“I love you dear”
“I love you too Mom…”
And then they embraced together and cried. That was the end of the film.
Amrita was crying in her seat. I blinked my eyes to ward off the tears. People had started to move out of the theater. It was our usual habit for the rush to calm down first and then to move out. The background song of the film was still playing somewhere in the corners.
The ending words of the film were still ringing in my ears. When had I said the same to my Mom? But how to say? I am not a child or boy anymore. I am a grown up man now. I have a wife now. We have been married for around 5 years now. It was her plan to watch the film in theater. Among the Indian audiences. After all, we had been living abroad for 3 years now. And maybe living again when she is well enough. Mom. no, Mamma. That’s how I call her. Her operation was held just one month ago. And my vacation which I beautifully clubbed with the fine excuse, is about to finish. This weekend we will be flying again, if tickets are obtained. The same old job, the same old routine, the same old woodhouse in US, where only me and Amrita lived, the same old house where I will miss having Mamma’s food. Read the rest of this entry »
The Morning Craze!
It have been creeping inside me for a long while. Taking my attention away. Making me not able to concentrate anywhere else. It provoked me. I tried to avoid the tingling sensation it gave me every few minutes. I couldn’t ignore it. The pain was deepening. The morning was busy and hectic as usual. But it demanded me to sit down and take rest. I couldn’t. I started worrying whether my hubby would start asking what’s the problem is. How will I say to him? I am sure. He won’t understand it. Read the rest of this entry »
The Doubtful love
“Bye Meeta ”
Shivraj called out while moving towards the door. It was already nearing 9 o’clock in the morning and he was contemplating the morning traffic already built up on the road. He opened the door and turned to check whether she heard or not.
“Aa rahi hoon”
Meeta was hurrying up from the kitchen towards the main hall. She was swaying away her disaligned hair with the back of her hand, and removing the pallu end from her waist, which she had pinned up so that it did not disturbed her while washing the dishes.
Shivraj stepped out calling out to her, “ Darwaza bandh karo ok? Mein chaltha hoon.. bye”
By the time, Meeta reached the door, Shivraj was walking away towards the garage to get his vehicle. Meeta closed the door and latched it slowly. It was the starting of another day.
It was 12 in the afternoon, when the calling bell rang. Meeta had completed washing the dishes after her breakfast with Shivraj, which they never miss to have together. After taking bath, she was reading the newspaper. There was news of blasts here n there, and few robberies. The same old news which appears daily, but with different places and names. She had got bored and had turned on the TV. The re-telecasting of famous serials had started as the afternoon streak emerged. Bored from seeing the same old serials, she was browsing through various channels, and had settled for two minutes on the Discovery Channel’s programme, “Forensic Investigators”.
She looked at the clock. “Who could be at this time at the door? Shiva never comes home for lunch.”
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Behind the closed doors
The lighting was perfect. The ambience prodding seductive darkness. They were inches apart from each other. They could sense their breaths in the silence. His fingers were caressing her cheek and his arms enclosed her. A soft tickle was spurting from her spine under the movements of his fingers. She controlled herself. He bended down and kissed her on the cheeks. She closed her eyes responsively…
The flashes of light through the windows reminded her of the bright sun outside. They looked at each other. She laid her head onto his chest and wrapped herself onto him. It was the awaited moment. The moment of revelation. The moment of acceptance. She raised her head slowly. His eyes bored love and there was the romantic smile in his lips. They touched through their foreheads. And the noses. To feel that they belonged to each other. To reveal that they are one soul and two bodies. Their hearts ached with passion. Their eyes gleamed with feelings and the silence spoke out to each other. And then, they kissed each other on the lips. To establish the right on each other. To water their seeds of relationship beyond the sexual desires. To reveal their sense of belonging. To reveal that they love each other…
In the darkness, she couldn’t realize where all he was laying his lips on her body. She could just sense. And writhe to the sensual movements of his kisses. He was trying to move down to lay his head in her chest. His fingers kept moving, as if to entice her, to gratify her with plethora of emotions and to provide all the worldly pleasures a man could give to a woman.. or rather he could give her. It was his way of showing his love. His way of revelation. She opened her eyes at times when there was no movement. To check whether he is unsatisfied of her responses. She succumbed herself to his arousal of desire, and welcomed him on her. To devour her. To provide him what he sought. To accept his token of love. To establish a new relation. Through the old ways, as always…
The door remained closed… All doors…
Fast track…
It was over 7.45pm. The last bus to my home will start within 15 minutes. I swiftly closed all windows, logged off my machine, and closed my drawer. Taking the bag onto my shoulder, I moved out of my desk, walking towards the corridor swiping out my id card. At the corridor, he joined me, with a blank face. He too maybe going home, in his bike.
..::::..
11 months ago:
It was over 5.30pm. The first bus was at 6.30pm. The new mail notification was smiling at me at the system tray. It was the mail from him.
“Hello, when leaving?”
“Not decided. What about you?”
“Not much work today. I may leave by 6.30”
“Hmm..Ok, catch a seat for me too”.. “if possible..”
“If possible huh??? I will think about it..”
“Keep thinking.. But inform me before the bus goes..
, I wonder what is there to think!!”
“Like whether I need to bear your chitchat whole while in bus n all…”
“..What!!…”
“..hehe…”
“……”
“…”
..::::..
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