Anger. Sin. Kill.

Anger (July 26)

He pressed his pencil as hard as he could into the page and continued writing. The lines were strong enough to cause depressions across the next few pages. 

With his lower lip engaged in a muscle-numbing pout, his eyes darted from his friends outside to his mother who was vacuuming in the kitchen. "Homework first."

Sin (July 27)

He inhaled a remorseful breath. Staring at the marble floor, he caught his own reflection.

He felt a tremor through his body and felt his throat tightening. He looked back at his reflection and whined. His tail curled between his legs, he laid his wet nose against the floor.

Breaking a vase was considered unforgivable.

Kill (July 28)

The rubber felt smooth and satisfying as he tested its elasticity. He stooped to pick up a pebble and blew away the superficial dust.

Nestling the pebble dead centre in the slingshot, he pulled it back and squinted at a sparrow nipping away at its wings.

The pebble slayed both the sparrow and his innocence.

Supernatural. Blue. Stories.

Supernatural (July 22)

Anuja delicately adjusted her infant’s head, as she held him close. She liked feeding him; she liked the control.

Eyes closed, she hummed her favourite tune and gently ran her palm against his head. His body’s warmth matched hers.

His tiny fingers then traced out the letters M, O, R and E on her tummy.

Take 2

The clouds were as much as obstacles as flies against a windscreen. Extending both hands forward, he hurtled ahead – chasing the falling meteor. Just then, he felt his feet being pulled.

His pillow vibrated and he woke up with a start. Probably a message. Squinting his eyes, he saw his inactive phone on his desk.


Blue (July 23)

The magnificent seven are nature’s pride. Always radiant when found, spreading joy is their calling. They spontaneously generate wealth too. Even if only in a manner of speaking.

A picture of contentment, they are. Well, almost.
The unwavering path 6 of them want will never be followed. The third brother will always have other plans.


Stories (July 25)

"There was once a big bad wolf who…"
"No! Not that one. Tell me another one."
"Okay. Once upon a time, there was a frog who lived in…"
"Nooo. That one’s boring!"
"Fine. In your closet right now, Pete – a one-eyed monster with a grumbling tummy – is waiting for me to leave. Good night!"

*Slam!*


Take 2

He ran his fingers delicately on the paper. "55 killed in landslide"
His thumb jerked as he clutched the sheet tightly. "Fuel rates hiked again"
"Freak manhole accident kills mother and her child." He cringed.

As the little bumps fed him the news, he felt glad that he couldn’t see the world around him.

Watch. Charm. Death.

Watch (July 19)

The toddler clutched her heels and giggled uncontrollably. The baby sitter pressed the toy and the oinks evoked peals of laughter, again.

A tasty aroma wafted into the room. She checked her wrist; it'd been 2 minutes since she’d added the masala to the noodles.

When she returned, the toy was missing; the pulse, gone.

Charm (July 20)

Tightly clasping the oval pendant with her left hand, she began writing.

Siddharth had taken his first steps yesterday. Her paycheck was due tomorrow. Vaibhav was opening up about his past flings finally. Her sprained ankle was healing nicely.

"Alright, pens down every one."

She gripped it harder. Maybe she'll graduate on her third attempt.

Death (July 21) 

“Where’s your god now?” the soldier yelled; the shrapnel in his throat barely allowed a wheeze.

He rolled his wheelchair closer to the altar. “Tell me father...”

“Have faith, son.”

The soldier shed a solitary tear. His revolver had the word ‘faith’ inscribed on it. He offered the priest some before taking a healing dose.

Take 2

The veins in her temples throbbed purple. Her lips were at the risk of tearing the way she sustained her screams. She curled her toes and dug her nails into her several catheters.

He delved further between her legs. Within a moment, her scream transferred to the writhing foetus and then, they both went silent.

Take 3

"Beta... get 1 rasgulla for me." 

Rahim darted to the kitchen and obeyed his grandfather, covertly.

"See that pipe near my hips? I’ll give you a prize if you cut it." He smiled, savouring each bite.

As Abdul wheezed his last, the gathered realised they’d waited all this time for naught. The will was final.

Possibility. Indifference. Envy.

Possibility (July 16)

MVPKGU

Behind the counter, in her red SpiceJet skirt, Sejal entered the boarding pass number. "Ms. Suchita Shah. Any baggage?"

“No.”

“She seems nice,” Sejal thought. The cute guy who checked in a few minutes earlier was in 12A. She took a few moments to weigh. “Hmm… Why not?” she concluded.

“Seat number 12B Ma’am.” 


Indifference (July 17) 

Sitting cross legged, she cupped her hand and scooped a handful of gravel and dropped it into a rusty strainer.

She giggled and repeated this amusing trick. The larger pebbles remained while the smaller ones passed through and gleefully landed onto her billowing frock.

The divider at Dharavi junction was this 4 year old’s playground.

Envy (July 18)

"Free on the 2^nd next month?"

"Yeah probably. Why? What’s up?"

"Cool, I've got some tickets. Will let you know about them soon."

"For?"

"Nothing special. I'll ttyl."

 2 weeks and a forgotten phone call later, I was at home and my soon to be ex-friends were at Wankhede watching Sachin lift the World Cup.

Take 2

Outside the station, he fought trying to hail an autorickshaw in this torrid rain.

On landing one, he quickly closed his umbrella and entered it, but not before his back was drenched by the water from the parapet above.

As the auto moved along, he longingly glanced at the sleeping kid in the Hyundai alongside.

Scream. Close. Damage.

Scream (July 13)

He clutched at his bed-sheet; his knuckles were white. 

Excruciating pain was the only way to label his ordeal. Amul learnt that life can be unfair on multiple counts.

As his father lashed his leather belt at his back blaming him instead of his genes, all this mute boy could do was scream with his eyes.

Close (July 14)

The second hand stepped forward, like a soldier. Dependable. The hour hand was the general. Watchful. The minute hand was sluggish. Jerky. Faulty

"Clamp." The attending surgeon ordered. The nurse fetched it. As he sutured the chest, the patient's eyelid flickered. The minute hand was back on track. The new heart had opened a new door. 


Damage (July 15)

Tensions were running high. One ball to go. 

A juicy low full toss; the mighty swing was justified. Ramesh's six won the game and shattered his neighbour's Audi's windscreen.

Livid, the neighbour stormed out and slapped the 11 year old. He wasn't done. With bottled rage, he spat at him. "Did you know you're adopted?"

Monday. Aphrodisiac. Forbidden.

Monday (July 9)

*Whoosh!* Thud* Crack* The time froze at 8:22 am.

Dark circles and migraines, she could handle.
A dismissive boss and long working hours, she could handle.
Loud co-workers and unrealistic deadlines, she could handle.

What she couldn’t handle was why they always, ALWAYS attacked her in unison.

The alarm clock was her first victim today.

Take 2

He woke up with a smile. Landing a job in Mumbai was a dream come true for Subhash.

There were 7 office skyscrapers near his chawl. Most of them jumped from above the 10^th floor. His earnings were fixed - Rs. 100 per body. Business always picked up today.

Just another day at the office.

Take 3

Atrophied muscles. Chapped lips. Sighs of relief. Loads of hugs.

It’d been 4 months since the accident. “Shrewsberry biscuit please” he wheezed. The mind’s desires can be confounding.

20 minutes passed. “Please…” he rasped before giving up.

All the stores were shut. Too bad Manoj decided to wake up from his coma on a Monday.

Take 4

A long belly and hip scratch and a satisfying yawn later, he turned to the other side on his bed. The sun’s rays penetrated his window, but not the thick blanket over his head. He twitched.

What was that? A faint whiff! And off ran Garfield to accost Jon.

Mondays often went downhill after breakfast.


Aphrodisiac (July 11)

Finely powdered. That was the term used. Clutching the pestle, he ground till the mortar’s contents matched the parchment’s requirement.

He emptied the final ingredient into a vessel containing the potion that took him a month to prepare. Finally. He could love again.

The corpse in his cave with the missing jawbone seemed to agree.


Forbidden (July 12)

He locked and unlocked his door, 9 times.

Next, he climbed into his attic and dug out a framed photograph. He took a silk cloth from his bathrobe pocket and cleaned the frame 9 times.

Finally, he flossed his teeth. He stopped after the eighth time for a sneeze.
He flogged himself for this error.

Fire. Mouth. Stars.

Fire (July 6)

11:54 am.

It had reached the eighth floor and was rising rapidly, uncontrollably. The office was evacuated 32 minutes ago. Akshay was at his desk, typing away furiously. Everything around him was getting charred. Yet, like the sky outside, his mind was clear. “The promotion is surely mine,” he smiled.

His deadline was 12.00 pm.

Mouth (July 7)

"Red wala!" "Mujhe blue wala!"

For the last decade, these were the most common requests Naresh received. Kids clamouring outside the local garden for their favourite balloons.

After 10 years, today felt different. As he blew life into the balloon, he took his own away. He collapsed as the balloon floated away towards the skies.

Stars (July 8)

His temples throbbed with rage as he thrust his fists into his hapless brother’s face. "It’s ROUND! It doesn't have 5 pointy ends!" he yelled.

Gopi realised his mistake when his mother nearly ripped his ear out. "The sun IS a bloody star you moron!" Rahul though kept seeing stars for the next few weeks.

Train. Fairy Tale. Mystery.

Train (July 3) 

Take 1

He combed his hair as he always did – parted it with the customary flick towards his temple. Too much oil this time.

He clutched his slingbag; coughed twice to clear his throat. The crowd was getting restless. The 12:55 local arrived and was now Bhimrao's stage. 

Selling colouring books wasn’t really his career choice.

Take 2

The vibe never felt this good this morning. She applied eyeliner and that seductive vermillion lipstick. Generously. She even picked her favourite ghagra choli; you knew she was excited.

She was superstitious too; the 12:55 Bandra was her favourite. No, she couldn’t miss it today. With a quick shave of her stubble, Chandini was ready.

Fairy Tales (July 4)

The sword cut through the veil, revealing the chest. With another stab, the chest gave way – and out fell the golden treasures in all their misshapen glory.

Fresh with victory, he saw his mother mix the treasure in white nectar and ease them onto a vessel destined for him. Cornflakes were Aarav’s favourite breakfast.

Mystery (July 5)

Take 1

Strapped onto the rollercoaster ride, he looked around as the ride teetered uphill, leading to the inevitable free fall. Sitting next to him, his mother smiled her reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay son.”

She handed him a purple box. He opened it. The surgeon never found the clot. The lobotomy sealed the box for good.

Take 2

There was no earthquake. Not even a tremor. The wind nestled itself in his curtains. Conjuring shapes only he could imagine. He reached for the pen, picked a scalpel instead. He adjusted not his notepad, but his patient’s head.

Today, he was going to write a wrong. Today, he was going to rob Anu’s memories. To save her.

Take 3
“Day 92. Like clockwork, he walked in at 3:12 pm, ordered his mochaccino, solved the day’s crossword and left the 22 rupee tip. Yet something was different today. New shoelaces on those ragged Converse shoes?  Maybe a haircut?”

After her accident rendered her a paraplegic, Reema never stopped staring into the mirror.

Secret. Fragile. Lust.

It is refreshing to write when you're given boundaries that set you free. Yep, try analyzing that.

55wordstory is an interesting concept on twitter where every day, based on a single-word theme, I write a 55-word story. It's been 3 days since I've been indulging in this exercise and I must say, it instills a need to write. Every day.

So yeah, I'll post 3 such stories per blog post hereon. Here goes:

Secret (June 30)

His unkempt hair and foul breath could be attributed to his just waking up but it couldn't explain his shame.

He pulled the blanket and shuddered on seeing the body next to his.

That's all it was - a body. Some body he knew. Some body he did. He had saved the body's number as "sfgsrghtfh"

Fragile (July 1)

He wiped the snot off his nose with a shrug of his shoulder. His eyes drooped and met the mud he'd been forced onto.

He wished the distant rustle of leaves was all he could hear, as he helped himself up. The cackling laughter bounced around him, pricking him incessantly. And then, his alarm rang.

Lust (July 2)

The raindrops raced against each other to reach the bottom of the window. With his face against the cold pane, he traced his finger against the drops from his side of the window. His chequered towel was ready.

He twirled his finger around the telephone cord as he breathed into the receiver… "Mmm... Don't stop..."