Posts Tagged ‘short stories’

22
Aug
2009

Writing a story…

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I wonder when I start this story, how should I begin it? Should I bring in curiosity or switch to diastolic movement of time to picture it for you. Should the characters be as they are or should I change them for the credentials of privacy? Where should I bring in romance, is it this easy to bring in it anyways? Or should it just happen-just like that? Is it this difficult for every other person who narrates a story or writes words to make them into one?

I plan the beginning as unimaginative as it could be. Maybe, a simple exchange of phone numbers in which none was interested, or could it be an unintended festival greeting and later, a phone call in return.

Summers are too hot for anything, you just sweat. Winters get too cold to have warm feelings, rains bring in a flavor but autumn suits them the best. Autumns, when the circle begins and ends, the season in which they meet and depart.

What would the time be like? Would the time fly by when they are with each other, or they’d talk and talk of love and longing. There would be coffees, sighs, cheers, kisses, songs, mischievous ideas etc.

And then the question-how to give them a perfect happy ending?! Anyways, are happy endings for real? Or maybe a twist would do so much better, just one twist and the romance turns bitter, maybe a hideous affair, or some secrets, a lover from the past, or a fight against parents. So many reasons but I still wish somewhere to keep it plain, to keep it happy.

And that all would go into this unwritten story.

A story-a love story, a ‘short’ story!

Or maybe, some stories are as ‘endless’ as this one!

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Posted in Autobiographical, Stories

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16
Aug
2009

Partings

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If she had imagined it for a story, she would have made it a dimly lit setting, maybe the dusk-when the day ends only to leave darkness and shadows. But it wasn’t imagined, it was real, the sun wasn’t setting but it was an afternoon, though cold and misty.

There weren’t many things left to be said, by now. They were clear unlike the afternoon, in his head and in her heart. She often played with her cell phone, to distract herself from the heavy thoughts, keeping her brown eyes at it, for she was afraid a drop would steer down if she’d move them too much. He on the other hand, stared into abyss, stealing a quick glance of her face from time to time. He was afraid she would cry.

What could he say? What would she want to hear? He kept on thinking to himself about the times that had gone. She wished there were better times for them.

Soon, the silence was disrupted by the rattle of the rain drops on the red tin roof. She looked at the clock, it had been an hour.

‘Are you ever going to speak?’ she managed to keep her voice low.

‘Would it matter what I say now. It’s my fate and I’ve resigned to it’, he said looking out of the window for a change.

You’re such a coward, she said, picking up her bag.

As she made it to the exit, he rested his head in his palms. I would live with this; he thought to himself, finally feeling an uneasy comfortableness, something which he didn’t know what to name.

‘Fight for me’, she chanted the three words innumerable times under her breath and crossed the door.

A raindrop settled on her cheek bone.

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Posted in Stories

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20
Jul
2009

Hope

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red desires

Least, I find you in my dreams. Then, there, it’s nothing but us. The world dissolves in the oceanic wrath, the clocks no more play and we stand on the shores of the eternal sea. And when I wake up, I feel like taking a plunge down into the hidden sea and I wish, you could have been there too. I don’t find you along those shores and the feeling is never acceptable enough.  Say, there is always a sigh close to it. A mute, expressionless sigh…

It’s a sad feeling, the way our hopes find illusions.

I could wait there forever but I know that soon we’d become past as well. Time has stained us, and left its mark upon us. I brush aside my dreams but reality is as confusing. The distorted images in my mind play havoc yet I clearly remember the way your skin smells. These memories were to serve the foundation to the new ones but they are being buried, killed, would be a better word!

And there is a thing inside me which is all calm. I am no more vulnerable, the fight seems to have disappeared, gone with the moments you’ve kept me waiting for you. There was a moment when I felt like shrinking but sooner I realized its you who had been caught off-guard. Unexpected. I want to stay as long as your wounds don’t heal, till the ache doesn’t subside for I know you can’t do it on your own.

Men are, in one way, a part of women after all!

At times, frustration soars through me and I want to disappear. But you reach for me in such times and I feel helpless. My thoughts drift on, to times when it would require courage to stay while the sky gets filled with black clouds. But your nonchalance doesn’t promise, ironically, it doesn’t leave a single word. You would often start with an ‘if’ and use a ‘but’ and I’m left looking for an answer, carefully choosing the right words to express the right feeling. Usually, I go wrong!

‘Hope’, they tell me.

It isn’t that real, I can say.

Despite that, I cling on to it alone, tired and weary.

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Posted in Stories

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29
Jun
2009

Words…

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Beauty was what she always associated with others. It was a phenomenon for everyone, except her. She had never loved mirrors. Never had she loved taking rounds in a frilled skirt, looking at its flow, imagining the blues, the reds, the whites spinning into one. It was always like that, it had always been like that, no matter what anyone told her.

It was just another hour late at night. They paid attention to each others soft whispers, relaxing in each others arms as he played with her hair, listening to her stories. He held her face in his hands, kissed her eyes and said,

“You’re beautiful…”

For the next few minutes, that was all she could think about.

Was she beautiful?

But knowing him, she could only doubt her own vague ideas. For there were more days to come and go when he would whisper the same thing into her ears and she would believe him. She never understood what exactly beautiful was, but she could feel it all around her. She could like colors except black and white and greys, she could know a blue sky or a sky dotted with jeweled stars, she could know how life could get beautiful from a deserted, rugged journey to a story where there is a prince charming and his beautiful princess, she could find a meaning in the images, the words, the sounds, the colors and what not, a beautiful meaning.

Thus, she never got tired of hearing how he would always begin.

‘You know what?’

‘What?’, she would ask waiting for those words.

And he would tell her…

“You’re beautiful!”

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Posted in Just like that, Miscellaneous, Stories

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21
Jun
2009

Before sunset…

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For all she wanted to do at evenings was to sit in her balcony and watch the sun go down. Nestled in her own arms, she would watch the evenings fly by. The water blue sky would change its color slowly and get darker and darker not by tones but by the hues. The lights would come out but would not be noticeable first. The sun would settle above the hill usually and scrub its yellow across the sky and the whole scene would resemble a blue and yellow blanket. Sometimes orange, at times red too could be found here and there.

The evenings would come with a little breeze, the kind which gets inside your clothes and touches your skin. She would feel it, she would love it. Then the yellow would fade off the horizon and the sun would go down behind the dark blue hills in less than a minute. It would just disappear.

The sky would turn dark blue as well but remarkably, one can always spot the hills. The colors of the two are always close but with a distinction between them, they never intermingle. Then one can spot the stars of the hills. Yeah, lights come out before the stars in the sky but Venus never misses it spot. Soon, the two-hills and the sky are both starry eyed.

She tucks herself and wishes he was there with her, to watch the sun go down…

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Posted in Just like that, Miscellaneous, Stories

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