What if?

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 7; the seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Watching ones mother weep for you, while you lay on your death bed, waiting to die, isn’t surely what you would fancy to see. You would wish you were rather dead than witness such a thing. I too, so much wish I was dead than lay here, impotently.


I know mother would miss me and more than her, Sumati would. If I somehow manage to live, then they need not suffer the heartache that my death would give them. I wish to live. I ask to myself, "What if I could live?"

Concupiscence

"Bless the devil! Everyone and everything will die if the temperature remains so low for another day. I wish I had put on some more warm clothes. This seemed enough when I left home. Goddamn! I always forget to wear gloves. Why did I have to become a soldier? I could have been an accountant or a librarian, instead. Mother always tells me that she had never imagined that I will become a soldier, but Jessie had fallen for it, not only her but most women fancy soldiers. Soldiers are tough guys after all and women are always into either bad or tough guys".


"How much I wish I was in bed, making love to Jessie, instead of entertaining some cock and bull story. In small towns, everyone knows what others are up to and when one talks, everyone joins him. People talk anything and everything. Now, they are talking about night-walkers. I'm aware that people are going missing but that doesn't mean they are hunted down by some bloody blood-sucking creatures from the myth".

Call it luck

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 6; the sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

In the library...

My Cinderella Story

How much I wanted to live a fairy tale? Every time I heard Cinderella's story, I imagined myself in a beautiful white gown wearing delicate sandals running away from my prince, when the clock ticked twelve. I wanted to run away from him, so that he would come looking for me. I had always wanted to feel important.


I hated being ordinary. I hated being poor. Most of all, I hated being plain. Its not like no man came seeking for my hands. They did, but they were just farmers, carpenters, scholars, weavers...none were prince. I wanted only a prince who would treat me like Cinderella.

Sherry always complained that it was quite silly of me to be waiting for a prince because princes married plain girls only in fairy tales. She didn't believe in Cinderella's story. I knew she was wrong. I had a very strong feeling that my prince would come for me, very soon. She never liked when I rejected any men, so she had warned that she would tell everything to father if I rejected anyone again.

All in a day's work

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 5; the fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

I have seen him on television many a time, winning over many hearts, especially women's hearts. He was handsome and also successful. He was exactly the kind of guy, who would be every woman’s dream. Any woman would give away her heart to him, happily. Yet, I wasn't looking forward to meet him. It wasn't normal, at least not for me, because I had always dreamed of living the characters that he loved on screen. The way he kept up to his commitments going against the world, fighting with the villains… everything was so appealing. I had liked all the roles that he played on screen. I wanted my companion to be a mirror image of him, so alike him, who would protect me from the horrors that I face everyday and spare me from the after effects of the horrors. I have been haunting my dreams ever since I started living this horror. I relive the horrors every time I see myself in the mirror.

Mothers

 I couldn’t believe my ears when she said, “It’s over”. I wanted to know, “Why?” but I didn’t find my voice to ask her anything. I wondered whether I was dreaming or it was happening in real. Until a moment ago, I believed that she loved me and then she turns my life upside down. My eyes went blur, head swirled and my legs gave away. One moment she was there in front of me and another moment, I was alone. As I hit the floor, I heard a voice, “She killed me, Sid”. There was so much pain in the voice that it actually sucked the soul out of my body. It said, “Now, you will never keep your promises”.

A Chocolaty Date

The simmering chocolate surely looks delicious and the luscious aroma is promising nothing lesser than a treat… the treat that always remains incomplete when Adi is around.

The piece of cake that momma gives, never satisfies me. Somehow, Adi's piece always looks bigger than mine. Momma never bakes a bigger cake. She keeps it “happy family” size. Every time, I end up longing for more cake...cake sauced with hot chocolate.

Chocolate! I would do anything for it. I bought chocolates on every possible occasions. Sometimes, I even stole from Adi's box. Momma tried talking me out of this craziness; instead, the effort turned her mad. She kept the chocolates locked in the kitchen cupboard, so I could fight the temptation. However, it didn't help me check my desires. The urge for it made me find alternatives. I bribed Toni, the next door kid, to buy chocolates for me. I kept them in my lockers and always carried the keys with me. I didn't let Adi linger around my cupboard, unguarded.

How, I miss him?

It is a silent corner,
Where I sit, like a loser.
Sinking into the sweet past,
Cursing, why didn't the time last.

Every night, we'd made love.
Why isn't it the same, now?
Though, on the same bed, we sleep,
He doesn't hear me weep.

The First Omen

Simple things always gets my interest, more than the sophistications and riches that generally lures people of my age. I choose to spend my weekends reading a book rather than crowd the shopping malls. However, my love for plainness never influenced my fancy for the elegance and the magnificence of the nature. Nature always calls upon me. I relish long, lonely evening walks, because that is when I get to see things as they are, rather than take everything that cinemas shows us nowadays. I love when my hair flutters along with the cool breeze and birds sing somewhere faraway.

Though, every evening walk had been no different from the other, except for the people who walk the streets, there was something magical about that evening. I could feel the magic and also smell it. Thankfully, I live in suburbs; otherwise, I would have been smelling smoke that vehicles fart.

Magic always ends!

Under the starry sky, I sit alone. I sit alone, like a lost knight.
Humming a lazy tune and wishing for the night to die soon.
I sit alone, yet in the company of the cold night.
Faraway, a dog howled and went behind the veils, the moon.

I sit here, quiet. Quiet, yet noisily beats my heart.
Breaking the silence, the breeze began to croon.
I sit here, under the starry sky, waiting for the first light.
The breeze sung and with it, I hummed. I hummed the same tune.
My eyes fluttered again and again. With sleep, was it's fight.
Forgetting, magic always ends, I sit here. I sit here, like a goon.