Skip to main content


Showing posts from May, 2014

Blind Date

"Make me one more," Mohit said to the bartender drowsily putting down the glass on the table. It was almost closing time on a Friday night. He found it difficult to even sit straight on the chair.
    "I think you have already had enough," said Mukesh. "Let's go home."
    "No. Let me drink. I need this. I need to forget. I need to..." he said sipping on the mocktail.
    "What are you talking about? This doesn't even have alcohol."
    "What?! Why didn't you...? Are you sure?"
    "Just get up. Let's go!" said Mukesh, swiping his mobile over the counter.
    They got up to leave. It had been a tough week for Mohit and it showed on his face. He thought he had found the love of his life, and then lost her too. The story began exactly a week ago, when Mohit was set up for a blind date by his parents.
    The car pulled over and stopped at the fancy restaurant where he was to meet her. He got out a…

College Reunion

Raghav sat gravely on the steps of his alma mater. “I wish you were here, Shireen. We promised each other that,” he said, staring at the swaying red and green trees. “Ten years ago this day, standing on that podium, hand in hand, we were so happy. We felt invincible. We thought nothing could change us. We were so naive.” He looked at her lifeless image on his laptop and wished that it would move and talk to him. “I miss you.”
    “Then why the hell didn’t you call the babysitter!?” blasted her voice from the speaker.
    “Because you never told me to!” he shouted back.

This post is a part of Friday Fictioneers - a weekly picture prompt for a story of 100 words. Head over here to read more stories, or add your own if you feel like it.


A serene mist hung low over the mountain. Green grass blades kissed the tiny droplets of water and drooped low by their weight - purified by them. Gentle winds danced with the leaves and rustled the foliage. Exuberant sunrays filtered through the mist and fell on the dusty country track, welcoming and moist. She peered outside the window and marveled at the beauty that was creation.
    “It’s such a beautiful morning,” she said and shut the windows. “But it’s just so comfy inside.” She wrapped a blanket around herself. “Tomorrow I’ll definitely go running.” She reassured herself again that day. This is my entry to this week's Friday Fictioneers based on the below picture prompt. You can check out the other amazing FF stories below. An InLinkz Link-up

My first account

I vaguely remember making my very first email id. It was so long ago. It was before the last galactic empire laid claim to the wastelands of Ibirthe. The days were short and the night was vigilant. Okay. That's not true. Well... technically it's not false either. We can't predict the future. My good wishes to the last galactic empire to whom I shall gladly extend my allegiance.
    This post however, is going to be non-fiction. No, I can't promise you that it will be completely without any figment of imagination. I will have to fill the inconsistencies in my memory with suppositions and bold lies. The prompt this time leaves little wiggle room. So here goes my first non-fiction post.
    My first email account was indeed a long time ago. I was 12 years old. Those were the good old days of the dial-up connection, when you waited patiently as the modem sung the song of its people - poetic, alliterative, but truly digital. We had a 4 GB Hard Disk and 64 MB RAM. 3.5&#…

Bugger Fixing

Aatish dragged his feet to the coffee room. Steam, Milk, Tea, Cappuccino, Espresso, Latte... Latte. Sugar. Two full spoons of it.
    He was brimmed with caffeine, but still struggling to keep his eyes open.
    "Dude, you look exhausted!" Satish said amusedly.
    "Oh… Satish. Didn't see you there, buddy" he said sheepishly. His caffeine potion was ready. He picked it up and looked at Satish. "Yea, man. I'm so… exhausted. I've bee working on the same little bug since yesterday!"
    "Go home, dude. You look like you'll collapse any moment." Satish faked a concerned tone.
    "I can't, man. It's a showstopper. I promised Arun I'd solve it in a few hours, and it's been two days now. I went home at one yesterday night and I was back at eight in the morning. Didn't even sleep properly."
    "Why did you promise him anything?"
    "It looked very straightforward, man. I've solved t…

Mother's Day Five Sentence Fictions

Preggers     Harold came running like a wild man, a pregnancy test stick in his hand, shouting at the top of his voice, “We’re gonna have a baby!”
    “No, we're not!” said Daisy.
    “Well… according to this neat little thing here, someone’s going to call you a mom soon, whether you like it or not,” he said, beaming, like a kid with a trophy in his hand.
    “No,” said Daisy, laughing  mischievously at him. “I didn't take that test; your mom did.”

Evil Beasts    “Why are the bad men trying to kill us, mum?” he asked, cowering behind his mother, wedging himself between her tail and the lightly seared moss on the surface of the cave.
   "I don't know, son, but I know that I won't let them get anywhere near you," she replied, resolutely, but terrified nonetheless.
   "I love you, mum," he said.
    She looked at her son once more and turned around to face the entrance to the cave to see the menacing shadows of soldiers approaching, spears in hand an…

The New Bride

"Mom, there is someone I want you to meet soon," he said sitting down. "She's very intelligent and pretty and everyone loves her too. They all think that I'm very lucky to be marrying her. But then again," he said and paused for a moment to consider, "I guess you might not get to meet her, mom." He put a rose on his mother's grave and said, "That bitch is probably going to hell, and you'd be in heaven".

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.


Rustum Patel was a rational man beset by an irrational malady. He was a perfectly healthy centenarian by all means, except that he was born no more than fifty years in the past. Every doctor in the country and abroad was consulted, but the symptoms themselves were an impossibility for even the most seasoned and discerning doctors. Lying on the bed he stared pensively at himself one last time through the mirror, as he had stared for days before, witnessing himself slowly lose hair and then teeth and finally the life in his skin, feeling horrified and bewildered and yet helpless all the same. In his last moment on earth, he felt his bones creak and skin crack and the air around him pull the last breath from his cold weary lungs, but not before he saw a younger image of himself smile demonically and wink at him from inside the mirror he had robbed from a crone.

A letter to my son

May 3, 2014 Dear Son,
    How are you? How are Sanjana and the kids? I hope you all are happy and healthy. Shani isn't giving any more trouble, is he? Don't go hard on him. He just needs more direction. Get everyone to meet me sometime. I miss you all a lot. You didn't even come during the last eclipse. Everything is fine here. I'm enjoying my time.
    I wrote this letter because I wanted to discuss something important. It's about your glow. It seems you are burning too brightly these days. It is summer on the northern hemisphere and everyone is complaining that my Aditya has done this, and my Aditya has done that. I tell them that you're just doing your work, trying to get more clouds in the sky, giving more food to the world. But they still complain.
    Sage Narada told me that the Vaishnao department is looking into sending you an official directive. Apparently most of Lord Vishnu's devotees come from India and the Indians are in the midst of choosing…