I usually don't ask people to do this, but this time, please tell me what you visualize in the last scene! There was something intended there and I want to know if I expressed it right.
Apoorva =)
He sat at the dining table with his customary evening drink in his hand. The plate of fried fish in front of him reminded him of Sakshi…
He remembered how much Sakshi had always enjoyed shopping, even if it was for something as mundane & uninteresting as fish. She loved rushing to the market & haggling with the vendors over a rupee or two. She’d come home with a triumphant smile on her face & then get down to cleaning & cutting the fish she knew he loved. She would hum a happy tune as her nimble fingers expertly skinned, chopped & rinsed over their kitchen sink. Her kitchen sink, he reminded himself. She had always loved her kitchen; after all, she spent half her life in it, cooking, cleaning & then planning his next meal…
He picked up a piece of the fried fish & put it in his mouth…
Sakshi had always been scared of frying things, an unfortunate predicament that marred the image of her being the perfect domestic goddess. The possibility of having hot oil splatter on her pretty face was too much for her to risk she’d always joke.”And in any case, I’m not frying anything that’s going to fuel your drinking …you really should control yourself Adnan….”These lines had become familiar enough to resound in his head even when she wasn’t around.
The fish was cold & too salty…
Sakshi was a brilliant cook, even when it came to frying things. She always made sure her husband had the perfect plate of food served to him. He had always wondered how she managed to figure out exactly how much salt should go into whatever it was she was making…she seemed to know by grace & not by law. The way her long well kept fingers swirled gracefully over her cooking pots imparting just the right amount of ingredients to a dish never ceased to fascinate him…in fact, he had noticed it just that afternoon. He had walked into a kitchen that was singing of the makings of a delicious dinner & had asked her to fry fish for him to go with his evening drink. She refused him with the usual ramblings of how he should control his alcohol consumption…she stood there with her back against him & continued to hum that annoyingly cheerful tune.
The fish tasted awful. “Pft! There goes my drink…..”
She hadn’t noticed the black frown that was growing on his semi-drunk face. She hadn’t expected angry growl she heard, neither did she expect him to grab her by the hair & fling her across her kitchen like a rag doll. He hadn’t expected her head to hit the wall as violently as it did….
He looked over to where her limp body now lay; her blood congealed on her kitchen floor, staining her kitchen wall. He smirked as he remembered how she’d always boast that people could eat off the floor in her kitchen, her spotless kitchen.
“I must remember to never buy fried fish from Ramu kaka again…..what a waste of money…”
Adnan suddenly felt a strange queasiness as he looked at Sakshi’s lifeless body. A funny pang of….remorse? He felt so sorry for having done this to her. His whiskey didn’t taste as good without Sakshi’s perfect plate of fried fish…
hey guys! i call this a descriptive piece, despite the fact that it seems like a narrative, because i've focused more on the language than the plot. so i hope you're willing to use your imagination. don't wait for the climax! =)
-apoorva
There was a rustling, a faint groaning in the distance, an icy air all around...the only light in sight besides the excessively bright and slightly eerie moonlight came from what looked like a deserted motel on the highway, looking foreboding, incongruous with the desolate atmosphere. Thalia Jankoski pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders as the wind bit at her cruelly. Behind the motel there were shadows that seemed to stretch dimensions deep, peering at Thalia with bloodthirsty eyes. Thalia scanned the distance looking for signs of life. She had been sent to find a boy who had been missing for the past two weeks and who was suspected to have been brought to this motel. The bushes rustled again as a cat disappeared into them.
Gripping her revolver under her coat, Thalia moved silently towards the motel, keeping her eyes on the light inside. Her footsteps echoed in her mind as her heart pounded. She went around to the back of the run down building, searching for signs of forced entry or exit, crouching down low.
Looking down, Thalia saw a set of fresh footprints heading around the building as though looking for a good way to get in. Next to them were sprinkles of powder. Thalia picked some up delicately, trying not to hold the soil, and held some close to her nose. "Cocaine," she muttered. Her piercing green eyes darted around the scene, calculating and analysing every detail.
The railing that led up the steps to the back porch had been wiped recently, as though to erase fingerprints. The hinges of the porch windows were freshly oiled. More white powder lay on the windowsill. The curtains inside were fluttering - someone must have opened a door to let the breeze in. Thalia's eyes narrowed as her mind processed her surroundings faster than her eyes spotted details, the gears in her mind turning like a machine. Her ears perked up as the groaning started again, this time more urgent. The boy was here, she was certain of it.
Thalia got to her feet. Slipping off her shoes, she made her way up the steps to the back door to examine it. A few seconds later, she jimmied the lock and entered quietly. Taking in her surroundings, she couldn't shake off the feeling of deja vu. The particular angle at which a chair had been upturned, a dark stain the shape of a familiar jawline on the carpet, the leftover chicken on the plate on the hall, the moose animal trophy above the side door, all registered in her mind as details clearly registered before.
Keeping her back to the wall, her revolver out, Thalia circled the ground floor, looking for the stairs, both in the scene around her and in her memory. The groaning continued, and when Thalia was halfway up the steps, her name was called out.
Thalia's heart leapt into her throat and her blood froze. In the seconds, or possibly the minutes, it took her to recover, the groan turned into a bloodcurdling screech. Echoes of it clanked around in Thalia's brain, getting her mixed up with her memories. She thundered up the flight of stairs, and the next, knowing exactly where to turn, which floorboard to jump over because it was loose. As she ran towards the room at the end of the hall, her socked feet registered dampness. She looked down and saw the blood, flowing out of the room from under the door, pooling at her feet, the stench camping out in her nose.
The manic shriek continued and a shot rang out from inside the room. Thalia lunged inside and fell to her knees at the body of the boy. Her eyes widened as they found his face. An ice cold hand made its way to her throat. She struggled around, felt a glint of cold metal, stumbled, pushed the hood off her attacker. All the memories from images of the motel and the dead boy clicked into place in her mind. The man gasped as he recognised her. "You!" Thalia snarled. They fell to the ground, struggling. The gun went off, ringing through their ears, broken memories echoing behind it.
People have been saying there are too many posts on love and relationships and that the theme is getting kinda monotonous so here is my attempt at breaking the monotony (of my writing only!)
It was a crazy night
With lots of vodka, and not enough Sprite
Crazy confessions were made
We were too drunk to think about what we said
Suddenly there were tears
We held each other as we voiced our fears
Things that had been trapped for long inside
Came to light in the middle of the night
We lifted a weight off each others shoulder
With spirit in us got a whole lot bolder
Soon we were screaming, tripping & falling
Rolling on the floor laughing
Then there was some drunken dancing
And our crazy night had a happy ending =)
Sam
the clock says its 12.55am. Lying on the bed and staring out of the window. It has been raining for quite sometime now. At least i have some company, someone who was already shedding tears. The stillness of the surrounding mesmerises me, I have learnt to live with the silence. Time, has taught me. To live alone, to welcome loneliness. There are many grey pages in my life, when i have been broken..
but have you ever thought how easy it is to break someone? shatter someone beyond repair? ask My devil, he knows, he will tell you...
but do you know how it feels when your broken? how it feels when tears roll down, each drop giving you a million of reasons, reasons to end this suffering, reasons to end yourself... once you end yourself I guess there is no room for tears then, does My devil know that? I wonder...
tears make their way down the cheeks.wets the pillows.wets the bed. Useless,unwanted tears, tears which perhaps would make me embarrassed had anyone else been there, but that's not an issue now,cause i am alone like always. Useless tears...is there any need for them at all? again, I wonder...
sometimes life brings you in such a situation, when you know what your doing is not what you should do, but there again, you continue.
result? tears..each tear has a million stories to share...come and listen some day, and you will know,how this heart bleeds sometimes...
does My devil know?
No
Never.
Silent tears.Silent bleeding.
-shalini sinha
With you, I learnt what it is
to be happy; and learnt
how it is to be fulfilled.
With you, I came to know
what is laughter;
It was because of you,
my life began again..
I walk with you in my dreams
I wish I were with you all
the time..
You are the music,
that's hard to find..
You're worth more than a life!
You are the harmony
to my soul..
Because of you, the candle
in my spirit has been lit;
When you are at another end,
my mind searches only for you.
It longs for you..
I seem to have thorns,
when I walk without you;
Because my vision is perfect,
only with you; Else, I'm blind.
When you hold my hands,
I feel safe; It feels soothing
to note that I
possess you, as my
true friend.. Without you
the petals of my flower fall.
And what has been going, has
not been seen as obvious; You
are the words that throw magic
into my book, without which,
my book makes no sense, and
I wouldn't be successful;
As one turns the pages of
my book, they read:
you,
me, and
us..
- Madhu
Sam
I was told that girls do not whistle. Nor do they climb trees or play with boys. According to some I read too much, some thought I read the wrong things. Why didn’t I like makeup? Why didn’t I gossip? Why wouldn’t I follow fashion? Why wouldn’t I like boys? People asked me a lot of questions, questions about how I came to be this way. I shrugged it off and told them I was weird, born this way, or else I sat there quietly pretending to laugh along. I shied away from the spotlight, and my recluse from the world, was writing. Even if I wrote only for myself. I weaved my stories of love and war, of desolation and of happiness. I dreamed fairytales, I wrote songs, and through them I lived a happy life.
After a long time of living with a few who understood me. I came to a place, magical in my mind. I met people who loved to read what I did, people who didn’t know a damn thing about fashion or makeup, people who never asked me why I was who I am. In fact they seemed to like me well enough. So I settle in for now, enjoying the people I meet. I’ll just wait for when you begin to ask me ‘why’ as well.
Aditi :)
A little while back, someone I love confessed to having an eating disorder. She knew she needed help and yet refused it… this is for her.
Snowflake
The light has faded from her eyes,
Her cheeks are pale; she tells me lies.
She winds a rope around her neck,
At dead esteem the vultures peck.
Lonely spectator, sunken heart,
In her despair I have no part.
Mute observer, bleeding hands,
Her footsteps fading on the sands.
The mirror cracks, I cannot hear,
The screams that deafen my beloved’s ears.
A dying flower refusing help,
Not friend, not foe, not even self.
A ray of hope now blinds my eyes,
It hurts, this hope that’s from the skies.
If it brings life, as I pray it will,
Laughter again her heart will fill.
-Elia Maria Peter
Bangalore, the city of dreams, for so many. I had actually never planned to come here, the whole thing happened very suddenly and after that again, pretty suddenly, I found myself alone, in this city, for the very first time. Life can be difficult. Very difficult. It took me quite some time to adjust to this new city. Slowly life moved on, friends, college, everything was just the way it should have been. I was falling in love. I was falling in love with this city slowly. I remember myself, sitting by the window, alone, and gazing out, looking at the raindrops. Each drop of rain, that touched my face, seem to give me a new life, gave me another reason to love this city. People complain when it rains more than usual, cause of traffic, water accumulation, but whenever it comes to rain, I look beyond this. I love the rains. The smell of the wet mud, the wet grass, my wet windowpane, the red umbrella, the coffee mug. I have actually spent hours just looking out of my window, the view is not that great perhaps, just a small open piece of land with a huge tree. But even then, I seem to find something special in this whole not-so-special landscape. Something extraordinary in this ordinary thing. You should see how green it becomes after a heavy shower, as though; someone has painted a picture all over again, with fresh green paints. Every single drop of rain that falls from the branches of the tree makes me smile. I have yet not seen much of this city, just a few places, so I cannot tell you how it is like in the other parts of the city, when it rains. However, even then, whenever I think about Bangalore rains, the picture of the tree, with its wet branches, more-than-usual-green leaves, comes in my mind. Being in a new city, where you really don’t know anyone, can be pretty nice at times, cause you really don’t know what to expect, you just begin afresh. That is how it is with me. New faces, new place, new drops of rain, new life.
-shalini sinha
I was too fat for some, so I lost weight
Then I wasn't busty enough so I had to put some on
Mind you not too much, just enough
When it would be right no one could say.
I chopped my hair, straightened and coloured it red
Only to discover that ‘it’s so yesterday’
To be today, it had to be long, curled and blue
What tomorrow will be is yet to be decided
By the revered anorexic goddesses of the moment.
My shirt didn’t constrict my breathing
My skirt didn’t reveal my underwear with every flutter
(Not that my underwear was satin and lace)
My socks were too high and shoes too low
Altogether the sorriest plight.
They redeemed me with a makeover
That set me back my tuition fee only by three months
What matters is, I was perfect
Atleast till the sun set that day.