Success

 Yet another attempt at Flash Fiction using a photo prompt! Do read and comment! Thanks! :-)

The Will

 Using the word prompt and photo prompt to write flash fiction ... Click here ... Who do you think is the beneficiary?

The Envelope

 Here is another Flash Fiction using a photo prompt by Vinitha. 

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it! 

Reverse

 We all have some superstitious habbits.. 

But it can take over and dictate our behaviour .. What happens then..

Read my Flash Fiction here... 

Orphaned

 Moving to a new site has had me put on the thinking cap and I have managed to churn out many short stories.. Flash Fiction and all have been via word or picture prompts. 

Here is the latest one again based on a picture prompt by Vinitha. 

Mirror

Continuing the new found creative streak ... another installment of Flash Fiction..Using the word prompt Mirror.

Click here to read this story....I am sure some of you will relate to it! :-)

Aai

 Anita finished folding a tissue into a fan and kept it on top of a pile which she had made today. 

Click here to read more about this heart wrenching post.

Surprise

 Meena sat desultorily in the Mall, guarding the numerous bags that Anu, her daughter-in-law had deposited in her care along with the children. Anu was getting her nails done.

Catch up with Meena's experience at the Mall here.. 

Innocent

 One more attempt at Flash Fiction.. 

Joining Vinitha in her Fiction Monday blog hop.

Click here to read my story!

The Fall

Fiction is not really my forte and if at all, I can write something when prompted.

Here is my effort from Vinitha's Fiction Monday using the picture prompt..

Awaiting your feedback.

:-)

Click here to read my story...

Thanks for stopping  by folks! 

Lifeline

Asha opened her eyes to the sound of chirping birds. Whatever the month, they always heralded the rising sun. It would be quite some time before the milkman arrived but she had much to do before that… Fist open close Fist open close. Elbow bend straighten elbow bend straighten. Raise arms over head Raise arms overhead. Circle ankles twice. Knee to chest right and knee to chest left. Repeat. She slowly turned to her side and got up.

‘Karagre vasate Laxmi Kar madhe Saraswati Karmule to tu Govindam Prabhate kara darshanam’. So muttering she folded her hands in prayer and got off the bed. 

Her husband continued to snore after one too many last night. It was a long overdue course mates reunion - hence all was forgiven.

She quickly brushed her teeth and swallowed her Thyronorm. At this age, she was grateful to have only a couple of tablets to support her.

To be honest it was not the birds that caught her attention at day break these days. The persistent Illuminate ringtone from the drawing room was what beckoned her out of the bed. The silvery device glowed in the night lamp. It was a smartphone that their daughter in law had practically forced into their lives.

Asha and VS were happy enough with their landline and the ‘small’ mobile for emergencies. However Asha took to this quite easily and it had opened a new world to her. A world she could not otherwise be part of . One where she could stay updated yet silent…

She pulled out the charging cable and switched on the lamp and settled into the rocking chair, wore her reading glasses and unlocked the Apple. The finger easily tapped the green icon.

Aha!

There were 62 messages from the Maher group, 37 from her Yoga group and a missed video call from Chiku ….  This was her lifeline to the world!

Asha smiled. 

The mandatory one hour fasting post-Thyronorm would pass very easily.

I am participating in the third edition of the Bar-a-thon. Today's prompt is "one too many".  One of my few attempts at Fiction which is not really my forte...

#BarAThon

The Gift

Abhi woke up to the sound of Rahul’s protests at having to eat breakfast. This was the only time that she got backseat on her mother’s daily agenda. She patiently waited for Ma to finish her chores and come to her. It was only a matter of time. She could hear the school bus, blaring its horn at the end of the lane and Rahul as usual was not ready. Dadima never really did object to this tardiness. Homework was often incomplete and exam scores below par. But all was excused.

Ma was soon with her and Abhi twisted her mouth into a smile. “Rise and shine dear, today is your big day!” Ma said. ‘Good morning’ Abhi echoed but the words ended as guttural sounds from her out-of-control vocal cords. Ma chatted away as she helped Abhi out of bed and prepared her for the day ahead. Today would be a difficult as Hetaldi had set a new task for her. Would she able to do it? Abhilasha steeled her mind to the looming challenge. She needed to focus.

Dadima was at the table but buried herself in her knitting as soon as Abhi came there for breakfast. Abhi attacked her food with gusto. Ma always put an extra dollop of butter on the parantha just the way she liked it. The salty smoothness of the butter helped the pieces slide easily down her throat. Most of the time her cheek and tongue muscles were way beyond her control twitching and moving of their own free will. The yellow velvety blob somehow calmed them sufficiently to allow her to swallow. Dadima complained about special meals for Abhi, “I want more tea,” she said now and Ma rushed off to the kitchen to prevent another onslaught of derisive comments. “And don’t forget to put in the ginger and cardamom”

Abhi hated having to depend on anyone least of all her mother but there was precious little she could do. Ma had almost become her arms and legs now. Abhi could feel her strength, hope and joy at seeing every miniscule progress. Mother and daughter functioned at a single level as if still bound by the umbilical cord.  Ma perfectly understood Abhi’s feelings, her needs and her dislikes conveyed through her expressive eyes.

Before the tea arrived, Dadima took off for her pooja. Abhi could smell the burning incense. It was rose today and she hated it. The tinkling bell accompanied Dadima’s tuneless bhajans.  How could God endure this daily audio torture Abhi wondered? Did he really ever listen? Or did Dadima’s God too prefer to ignore Abhi’s prayers?  But there was no time to lose, as Ma reminded her of their appointment.

War And Pieces

The rhythmic creak of the arm chair soothed the babies as they drifted into sleep in Neena's arms. They were just about a month old and soon she would not be able to hold them both simultaneously. She ignored her aching arms and relished their closeness. Her mind moved back and forth in time in tandem with the rocking movements.  Was it really only a year ago that Life meted out its lessons to her?

Barely out of her teens and already married, which was what her family arranged and she had acquiesced. Soon after they celebrated their first anniversary, Neena was already pregnant. Twins, the doctor said, and Sam was overjoyed. Double the joy he said! He made sure he was with her for every check up and stood by her through her phase of morning sickness. The nine months couldn't pass soon enough for him. Sam was due for a career course and decided to ask his Commanding Officer for a posting. Yet unexpectedly, his Unit was deployed in a conflict zone.With barely any time for farewells, the officers and men left without a backward glance. The operation turned into a prolonged one as causalities mounted. Some of the worst fears were realised and Neena was bereft. At the end of her third trimester, she remained confused and dazed not comprehending the storm that had hit her life. Her family took her home and what had was meant to be a rosy future suddenly turned dark.

Hope

Photo prompt for #15to50 Fiction Challenge at The Moving Quill

Hope

The city had become a grey, white concrete glass jungle. Green was now an artificial colour in books and paints. He looked hopefully at the assortment of seeds in the magician’s hands. Maybe he could do the impossible. Get the seeds to germinate. Bring green back to life.

Word count: 48

Linking up with the Fiction Challenge 'From15 to 50'

Feast

Picture Prompt Written for the #November 15to50 challenge

This image from Shailaja's blog: http://shailajav.wordpress.com/

Feast

The blessed rains ended a cruel summer of heat and hunger.

Flowers bloomed. Bees buzzed.

His starvation had ended. 

It was time to feast.

Word count: 24

Linking this to the Fiction Challenge ‘From 15 to 50′

Midnight Rendezvous

Daylight was fading rapidly as we reached the resort. We waited till all the fifty participants had checked in. This would be a good workshop as we had a full quorum. Situated on the backwaters of the dam, the resort was built on the slope that led down to the lake water. It gleamed dully in the moonlight that filtered down despite the thick forest. The crickets, frogs and insects had gone beyond opening notes of their orchestra. A storm was brewing in the distance and hopefully there would be some showers soon.
The clerk took an inordinately long time before the allocating rooms to us. “I am sorry sir, but the resort is fully occupied now,” he apologised.
“Do something man, we have to be here with our participants else how can we conduct their training?” I asked. “Check again. Surely you have a couple of rooms vacant.”
We were a four-member training team, most of us army veterans. Roughing it out had been a way of life. We were quite ready to spend the night on a veranda if required.
“We do have rooms at the lowest level near the water, sir,” the clerk said hesitatingly.
“We’ll take those,” I said brooking no more questions.
“I must warn you that no one has stayed there for a long time…” the clerk added.
“Why?” said Kedar, the baby of our team.

The clerk seemed to be gauging our reactions. Seeing our puzzled looks he explained, “Last year a couple committed suicide in one of those rooms. Thereafter guests have complained of seeing visions at night. We have not allotted these rooms to anyone since then.”
We laughed away his fears, “We are soldiers. There is nothing like ghosts. Stop spreading rumours and don’t mention this to your guests.” The matter was put to rest there.

Prem, the bell boy helped us carry our bags down to the rooms. He seemed nervous and wanted to hurry back as he opened the rooms. Kedar would share a room with Suresh. Mohan and I would be sharing the adjacent one.
“Call 201 for help,” Prem said. “Remember 201,” he repeated and sped away to apparent safety.

Tomorrow

T33/4 was situated at the end of the lane and stood amidst an overgrown bamboo jungle, dwarfed by a huge Seemal and surrounded by bleeding hearts. The two-roomed barrack styled cottage looked romantic bathed in sunlight that streaked through the branches. Come nightfall, it was something straight out of Jurassic Park.

It was past ten and the night was punctuated by the frequent roar of laughter from the Ramsies’ in T33/3. She had excused herself early wanting to tie up loose ends. As usual there was no electricity and Pramila pushed aside the old Feminas and newspapers lying on an old crate that served as a table and lit a candle. She had been working all day and was exhausted. This was the last night she thought with a smile, tomorrow she would finally move into her their ‘permanent' accommodation. It was the thought of this move that kept her company in their lonely ‘temporary’ home while her husband was away on official business. She removed curtains from the window, dumped their clothes into a suitcase and sat on it hoping her would her weight would bring the edges together. Their belongings and she were ready to move.

The bonfire next door choreographed eerie orange and black figures on her windows Pramila heard some scrabbling and panicked. Where was the torch? She blindly groped in her handbag and her fingers closed around the steel cylinder. In her hurry to switch it on it fell to the ground, and she was on her knees groping to find it. She gingerly moved her hands around the rough cemented floor fearing touching the giant cockroaches that always ran around the moment there was no light. Aaah, there it was... The yellow beam pierced every dark corner as she looked for... she knew not what... Was that an old floor stain or did it wriggle? She had left open a window at the back for some air so could that be a snake? Though the memory was two weeks old, Pramila could still feel the smooth cold skin against her feet as the Machoa gom had slid past her to escape its hiding place behind the bucket in the bathroom. The torchlight outlined a huge rat as it headed for the false ceiling. Relieved, she decided she had done enough for the day.

The transition to this remote location had been difficult. Being a city girl, she couldn’t accept living in this shack that served as their temporary home. ‘Cottage’ meant glorifying this bamboo thatched structure standing amidst grass that grew at least an inch a day. Hence her daily cribs and their daily arguments. He tried to reason with her, “All personnel live here at some point and it is only temporary.” Yet Pramila continued her rantings. Her husband left for his present assignment after one such major fight.

But things seemed to be looking up now. The job at the school was an unexpected opening and they were allotted their brick and mortar home out of turn. Teaching chemistry to 14-year olds was a far cry from her research assistantship at the Institute in Pune but she was willing to compromise. God did listen and she promised herself to turn over a new leaf. Pramila couldn’t wait for him to come home.

She gulped her Calmpose and got into bed. Much as she didn't want to, she had got into a habit of popping a sedative when alone. A blissful dreamless state kept unwarranted cribs and worries at bay. The night covered her in a thick blanket and the fauna sang for her. The crickets’ set up a crescendo and each movement ended in a refrain by hundreds of frogs. Lizards clicked and chuckled as they raced each other across the walls and she was thankful to the darkness as their sight filled her with revulsion. Tens of mosquitoes buzzed tirelessly around her some making bold dives towards her.

She did not, could not shake away her attackers. Sleep’s velvety claws engulfed her and took control of her mind. Pramila’s limbs seemed to become heavier and heavier as she happily floated between T33/4 and a dark warm world. The candle flame flickered brighter as it ate up the last of wax and the newspapers and magazines below it. She vaguely heard the Ramsies driving off with their guests. A faint pervading acrid smell seemed to be increasing. Her brain flashed cautionary signals but she was in a world apart. Her eyelids and limbs would not respond to urgent commands they received. It was her last night in this dump. Tomorrow, tomorrow she would sleep in proper home...

As the Ramsies drove back, they saw flames leaping out of the cottage at the end of the lane.

Rat Race...

The alarm tinkled but he shut the mobile up. He had an hour before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. He had made so many compromises so far, how did an extra 5 minutes of sleep matter?

This was the only period in Vijay’s control. The moment he got out off bed some unseen force took charge of his life. He had his big car now yet he longed for the train journey to work. He would have to wait for another year or his next job for a driver.

His boss was a tyrant. Targets, deadlines, office jealousies… Unpretentious Ravi always seemed to please the boss. And Anita took full advantage of her sex to avoid any additional tasks. The earlier boss had moved up acting the Pied Piper for his old team! Vijay had again lost out to Hussein in that race.

Vicky their son, had to be dropped to school everyday on his way out. Asking his wife Sonya to do so meant inviting another round of arguments. Cosmo women fought tooth and nail to share every duty. Vijay wondered if village women were half as vocal or their voice ever heard.

Sonya’s job paid for the EMI on this swanky flat. His pay packet took care of the car, plasma TV and European holiday installments. His fat salary shriveled to peanuts even before it reached the bank.

With both of them working, Vijay’s elderly parents looked after Vicky. Sonya argued they too would benefit from Vijay’s success. Any way it was better than living alone in the village and looking after the fields.

Weekdays zoomed past, each day undistinguishable from the other. Weekends meant putting in that extra bit at work, the new boss expected it. Sonya would never understand. Lazy Sunday mornings were his only luxury before getting down to more work.

Behind closed eyes, strains of a Kishore Kumar melody stirred his mind. He rarely played the harmonium these days. Where was it anyway? Sonya must have junked it somewhere. Vijay had been an avid mountaineer in college often leading expeditions. Now he had difficulty in figuring out the easiest route around vehicles on the road. Amma faithfully dusted his books and read out stories to his son. Vijay remembered playing carom and cards with Dad but he had forgotten when he last played cricket with Vicky. Did his parents deserve to care for a child at sixty plus?

Suddenly he was gripped with the futility of it all. Where was he running? What for? Vijay was pushing forty and Vicky’s childhood would not last forever. He had to be a part of it. His parents needed to retire.

Through swirls of mist he saw yet another EMI for Sonya’s diamond necklace and a corner office beckoning him. Vijay felt himself being sucked into a vortex of his creation. The snoozing alarm tinkled again urging him on in the rat race. He shrugged away his blues and dragged himself out of bed remembering Robert Frost’s lines “The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep”.

"Miles to go before I sleep..."

The alarm tinkled but he shut the mobile up. He had an hour before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. He had made so many compromises so far, how did an extra 5 minutes of sleep matter?

This was the only period in Vijay’s control. The moment he got out off bed some unseen force took charge of his life. He had his big car now yet he longed for the train journey to work. He would have to wait for another year or his next job for a driver.

His boss was a tyrant. Targets, deadlines, office jealousies… Unpretentious Ravi always seemed to please the boss. And Anita took full advantage of her sex to avoid any additional tasks. The earlier boss had moved up acting the Pied Piper for his old team! Vijay had again lost out to Hussein in that race.

Vicky their son, had to be dropped to school everyday on his way out. Asking his wife Sonya to do so meant inviting another round of arguments. Cosmo women fought tooth and nail to share every duty. Vijay wondered if village women were half as vocal or their voice ever heard.

Sonya’s job paid for the EMI on this swanky flat. His pay packet took care of the car, plasma TV and European holiday installments. His fat salary shriveled to peanuts even before it reached the bank.

With both of them working, Vijay’s elderly parents looked after Vicky. Sonya argued they too would benefit from Vijay’s success. Any way it was better than living alone in the village and looking after the fields.

Weekdays zoomed past, each day undistinguishable from the other. Weekends meant putting in that extra bit at work, the new boss expected it. Sonya would never understand. Lazy Sunday mornings were his only luxury before getting down to more work.

Behind closed eyes, strains of a Kishore Kumar melody stirred his mind. He rarely played the harmonium these days. Where was it anyway? Sonya must have junked it somewhere. Vijay had been an avid mountaineer in college often leading expeditions. Now he had difficulty in figuring out the easiest route around vehicles on the road. Amma faithfully dusted his books and read out stories to his son. Vijay remembered playing carom and cards with Dad but he had forgotten when he last played cricket with Vicky. Did his parents deserve to care for a child at sixty plus?

Suddenly he was gripped with the futility of it all. Where was he running? What for? Vijay was pushing forty and Vicky’s childhood would not last forever. He had to be a part of it. His parents needed to retire.

Through swirls of mist he saw yet another EMI for Sonya’s diamond necklace and a corner office beckoning him. Vijay felt himself being sucked into a vortex of his creation. The snoozing alarm tinkled again urging him on in the rat race. He shrugged away his blues and dragged himself out of bed remembering Robert Frost’s lines “The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep”.

This was my very first attempt at fiction but is obviously heavily inspired by urban life in India today. I was confident enough to submit it in a contest, the entry went nowhere but I now have taken heart to try my hand at fiction!

As we get ready to welcome another year, let us assess where we stand, what are our goals and how far are we from achieving them. Let quality of life not be the first victim in this race.

Seasons Greetings and Best wishes for 2008!

Archana