#WriteBravely – Forgetfulness (90 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –

A lady in red in a labyrinth of hallways
#WriteBravely – Forgetfulness – Pic off Pexels.com

Forgetfulness

She was becoming forgetful these days. Car keys would be in the rice jar and her glasses would be in the shoes. Yesterday evening, she spent 30 minutes looking for her phone while it was in her pocket all the time.

She decided to see the doctor on the weekend.

In the night, she visited a palace with many doors and narrow hallways. She entered one room after another.

It was time to get up. She would get late for work. Time to return. But how? She had forgotten the way.

#WriteBravely – The tale of two cities (90 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is – Nurture

blue door in David Street, Darya Ganj, New Delhi
Darya Ganj, Delhi – Pic off The Delhi Walla

The tale of two cities

“I would like to visit Lahore one more time before I close my eyes. I want to feel the earth and smell the air of the city that has nurtured this soul,” said the fading poet. His friends and fans nodded in empathy.

A piece of news spread like wild fire in the silence of the night. Hearts raged and blood boiled.

The next morning, he was found in a bylane of Darya Ganj – blood-less, breath-less, life-less.

His friends and fans didn’t feel remorse. One city nurtures, another one takes.

 

#WriteBravely – Celebrate difference (72 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –

peas in a pod
#WriteBravely – Celebrate difference

Celebrate difference

They were inseparable, like the Siamese twins, like two peas in a pod.

“Let’s marry!” Siya suggested.

“The world won’t let us live together,” replied Roma.

7 years later, they met again. Disillusioned. One ran away from an abusive marriage, the other threw out a cheating partner.

“Let’s marry!” Siya suggested.

“The world?” asked Roma.

“As if I care; let’s celebrate difference.”

They hugged each other so tight they looked fused into one.

 

 

#WriteBravely – Echo (120 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –

 

A broken mirror reflecting a calm person
Write Tribe Festival of Words – Pic off Pexels.com

ECHO

“I am leaving,” she said. He looked at her, like a patient mother would at her errant child urging him to explain.

“I am tired of taking initiatives – I proposed to you, I fixed the date of our wedding, I chose this house… it is always ME! I can’t take the lead anymore while you wait for things to happen,” she erupted.

He didn’t understand why should that be a problem? One leads, another follows. But his face remained calm.

“Please say something – shout, cry or slap me hard, just don’t keep sitting there like a Buddha,” she pleaded.

She shook her head, picked up her bag and slammed the door hard. He felt its reverberation for a long time.

(120 words)

 

 

#WriteBravely -Holidays and marriages

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –

A couple in a kayak boat in the middle of sea
Write Tribe Festival of Words

Holidays and marriages

“I think what we really need is a holiday. We have been very stressed of late,” she urged. He nodded without looking into her eye. He couldn’t remember when they had last looked into each other’s eye.

They went to Goa, where they had a romantic honeymoon 12 years ago. They did all the right things – ate, drank and soaked up the sunshine.

They came back and filed for divorce. Holidays don’t patch up broken marriages.

 

Word Count – 75 words

 

 

Book cover of a soldier with a rifle bowing down to a tomb with a cross

Book Review – Birdsong

Birdsong, written by Sebastien Faulks is a World War I novel. This is my second war novel of the month and makes me wonder, for a person who has shied away from reading tragic war dramas all her life, why this sudden interest in war books. The only answer I could find, after hours of searching myself, is that the human depravity that I witness in my day to day life has made me curious to know to what level man could have sunk during the war. And it never fails to shock me as I unearth new layers of decadence in the human soul.

Recently, I read a few war books, The English Patient, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society and What the Day owes the Night, but they were World War II books. Hence, when I read the excerpt and came to know Birdsong was based on WWI, I picked it up without giving it a second thought. I think I had read somewhere that WWII has monopolized the war of 14-18 because we find movies, literature and documentaries in abundance on the last world war, but little is known to the general public about the first one which had the direct consequence on the second.

Plot

So, let me now tell you more about the book.

The book is divided into 3 different time periods – before, during and post war. In the first (1910), Stephen Wraysford is a young and passionate Englishman who visits Amiens, France on business. He stays with a wealthy man – Rene Azaire and his family. Stephen comes to know that Rene beats his young wife, Isabelle as they are not able to produce a child together. Stephen falls in love with Isabelle and begins an affair with her. They quit Amiens and stay in Plombieres where Isabelle discovers she is pregnant. She leaves Stephen and goes back to Azaire without telling him that she was carrying his baby.

In the second time period (1916-1918), Stephen enlists himself into the war against Germany. He is a lieutenant of a platoon of infantrymen in the war. He is cold and unemotional and doesn’t fear death.

In the third time frame (1978-79), Elisabeth, Stephen’s granddaughter seeks information about her grandfather’s life during the war.

Review:

The first part is a clandestine love story and 100 pages into it, I almost felt like giving it up. The description was long and couldn’t hold my interest much. However, when the war started, that’s when the drama began too.

Stephen the protagonist, a 20-something love-torn man, proves to be cold, strong and resilient in the war. Over time, Stephen comes to care about the men he fights with and develops a form of friendship with two men; Captain Weir and Jack Firebrace, a middle aged tunneller. Stephen finds solace in their innocence and in their quest for survival.

Trench life

I cannot write a review of this book without mentioning about the description of the trench. Trenches in this book have a character of their own.

The only things I knew about trenches before I read this book were Burberry trench coats and trench foot. However, reading this book gave me a clearer idea what it was like to live in the trenches thirty feet under the earth. Sebastien Faulks has spared no detail and narrated the warfare at its most honest, cruel and gruesome.

The tunnel rats who dig claustrophobic trenches and soldiers who live in them and carry out warfare against the enemy. The underground explosions that make the soil give away and bury the soldiers alive making the trenches living coffins.

The description is honest, clinical and unemotional making it more vivid and impactful. As I read through the pages where tunnel rats dig tunnels underground and lay mines under enemy lines, I could feel the fine hair on my arms standing up, when the loose earth falls on the soldiers and they find earth in their nose, eyes and mouth, I felt suffocated and had trouble breathing, when soldiers feel lice crawling on their clothes and hair, I scratched myself and when the enemy shelling bursts open someone’s brains, legs or guts, I sensed warm blood all over me. I have never read a narration more powerful and gut-wrenchingly real.

These words from the book got my heart racing and gave me some sleepless nights –

“He had to crawl over Evan’s body, then haul Jack off the cross and flatten himself on the tunnel floor so Jack could get over him and go back down the tunnel. Even twenty yards back they could not stand up, but they could crouch and stretch each limb in turn.”

“He was close to choking on Douglas’s blood. By the time the stretcher-bearers reached them Douglas had lost consciousness. They levered the inert body up, trying not to make the wound worse.”

“He was aware of earth in his eyes and nose, and of weight.”

“He tried to swallow, but could not gather enough saliva in his dry, earth-filled mouth.”

The last chapter about the war is truly remarkable as Faulks portrays man’s fear and hopelessness, endurance and struggle for survival, and then humanity springing in the most unimaginable way.

What didn’t work for me

The style of narration changes in all three time periods. The powerful narration of the war, unfortunately doesn’t stretch itself to pre-war and post-war stories, which is a sore point of the book. However, on the other hand, it helps provide respite from the overwhelming war description. Also, the female characters lack dimension. Why Isabelle leaves Stephen and then finds love in Max is not very clear? Even Elisabeth’s character could have been more developed. Only Jeanne comes out as the sane one and a breath of fresh air in the story.

Verdict:

The war is prominent throughout the book, it rules over the characters, emotions and drama.

The beauty of the book is not in its plot or story, but in reading the narrative of the war, in knowing how tunnellers and infantrymen lived in the trenches, engaged in trench warfare and formed a brotherhood with fellow survivors as only they know what it is to survive in cold and inhuman conditions, and in understanding how innocence and humanity are snuffed out little by little in the face of gruesome horrors.

If you like reading about war stories, I’d say pick up this one.

A few lines that will stay with me –

“I am driven by a greater force than I can resist. I believe that force has its own reason and it’s own morality even if they may never be clear to me while I am alive.”

“He’s frightened that it doesn’t make sense, that there is no purpose. He’s afraid that he has somehow strayed into the wrong life.”

“I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine.”

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Reading Challenge and I have opted to read 24 books this year (though I am hoping to read more). There are 24 prompts given, and this book adheres to three of them:

1) A book set in a country that you visited/want to visit

 

Hotel Night Magic

Short Story. Flash Fiction. Photo Prompt. Fiction. Paranormal. Horror.
Hotel Night Magic – Open 24 Hours

She had been driving for five hours straight, without a single break. But she was tired now. Maybe she should call it a night and look for a hotel. After half an hour, she came across a big lighted sign which read

Hotel Night Magic

Open 24 hours

After a few turns, she came to a square in a small town. She saw the hotel. The lights were on. She breathed a sigh of relief. As she was about to enter the glass door of the hotel, someone grabbed her hand. Lily jumped with fright. It was an old beggar.

“Don’t go inside. It’s a crazy place.”

Lily took a close look at the shabbily dressed woman. She was reeking of cheap alcohol.

“Leave me alone.” Lily tried to free her hand of the beggar’s clutch.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The next moment she disappeared in the darkness of the nearby alley.

Shaking her head, Lily stepped inside into the brightly lit reception area of the hotel. There was no one at the front desk. She pressed the bell. After what seemed like an eternity, a man in his early fifties appeared.

“Hello Mam. I am Ranjan. How can I help you?”

“I want a room for one night.”

“Sure mam.” Lily paid in cash.

“Is your luggage in the car mam.”

“No. It was a day trip that got extended.” She lied.

“This is your room key, mam. 333, third floor, third room on the right. We don’t have an elevator. The staircase is to your left.”

The bed was comfortable but sleep still eluded her. She couldn’t get the image of her drunk husband running after her with the copper statue ready to hit her out of her mind. Luckily, she escaped. Slowly the exhaustion took over and Lily drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

A couple of hours later, Lily woke up to very loud music. It was as if huge drums were beating mercilessly.

What is this madness in the middle of the night! She got up to dial the reception but saw there was no intercom. Putting on the clothes, she went down. But, the concierge wasn’t there. She went to his quarter and knocked at the door. But, no one answered. She opened the door. The room was empty.

She went to the first floor and banged on the bedroom doors. She went to the second floor and knocked on the doors. She got no reply. She opened the rooms one by one. Each one of them was unlived in.

She was the only person in this hotel.

The realisation dawned on her. She was scared. She ran down the stairs and out of the hotel. She knocked on the houses beside the square. There was no one.

Hysterical she sat in her car and started driving. She turned right, but a few minutes later, she realised she had come upon the same square before the hotel. She must have taken the wrong turn. This time she took a left. But again she came to the hotel.

What was happening? Was there a way out of this damn place?

Someone knocked at the window. She woke up with a startled cry. The beggar from the previous night was peering through the window.

This woman will be the cause of my death. She thought.

The bright morning sun blinded her. The square was bustling with activity. Magpies were chirping. Children were going to school. People were headed towards work.

Getting out of the car, she asked the woman, “What did you tell me last night?”

The woman looked confused. “Me? I have never met you before. Are you drunk?”

Fat calling me drunk. Lily cursed silently.

She looked at the hotel. She had to find out. The concierge was standing at the front desk.

“Hello Mam. I am Ranjan. How can I help you?” He didn’t recognize her.

“I am a guest here. My room is 333.”

“That’s impossible, mam. We have only two floors. There is no room 333.” The concierge smiled.

“Are you pulling my leg? Yesterday night I slept in that room. I can show you.”

They went up the stairs and came to the third floor. But he was right, there was no third floor. Only a big terrace. Lily was speechless.

Was she hallucinating? Did she dream it all?

Lily raced down the stairs as fast as her legs could take her. Starting her car, she zoomed off the cursed square. Within minutes she reached the national highway. She vowed to never drive in the night again.

*************************************************************************************

I am participating in the Write Tribe Festival of Words – June 2018

Write Tribe Festival, Short Fiction, Flash fiction
Write Tribe Writing Festival

The Other World

Short story, Photo prompt, fiction, fiction writing, children stories, fantasy
Write Tribe Fiction Festival – Photo Prompt

Rhea took Pixie for a gallop in the woods. Far away from her house by the lake and her parents who fought all the time, when there was a reason and when there wasn’t. She had had enough of their bickering. Very soon she would go to a boarding school.

Rhea realised that she had reached a part of the woods that she had never been before. There was a clearing in the middle of the forest with a big patch of thick green grass. Getting off Pixie, she tied her saddle to the nail on a tree. The grass and the warm sunshine beckoned Rhea to lie down and very soon she went off to sleep. When she woke up Pixie was nowhere to be found.

Where had Pixie gone? An agitated Rhea pulled at the nail on the tree. Suddenly there was a loud noise and the tree started splitting from the middle. Rhea immediately stepped back. There appeared a large blue door in the middle of the tree. Excitedly Rhea pushed the door and stepped on the other side.

There was a stream of fresh water gurgling over the stones. Cattle were grazing on the mountain slope. At a distance, she could see kids playing. She walked towards them. It was a huge square with park at one corner. Kids were playing in the park while adults were having their lunch in the sunshine.

Rhea’s tummy gave an angry growl. She realised she had left her lunch untouched on the table as her parents had started arguing.

An old lady with a crown of grey hair and a face full of wrinkles looked at Rhea and offered her a sandwich.

Rhea shook her head. She had been told not to take food from strangers.

“We are nice people. We are not mean to our kids.” The old lady said. Rhea felt like trusting her and took the sandwich.

“Come sit. You seem to have come over from the human world.” The lady commented.

“Human world? Why what is this place? Where I am?”

“This is the other world. There are nails on trees strategically placed in different parts of the world. The nail acts as a lever that opens up the door to this world. Only people with pure heart who are miserable in the human world can find this nail.”

No wonder that nail looked suspiciously odd on a tree in a forest. Rhea thought.

“What is this other world?” Rhea couldn’t contain her curiosity.

“It’s a happy place. Here, we do not fight. There is no greed. We grow our own food and share the surplus with our neighbours. There is no poor, there is no rich. Every one is equal. And also, there is no money.”

Rhea had never experienced poverty herself but she knew it was not a nice thing. Also, by now, she knew that having lots of money didn’t necessarily make a person happy. Her parents were good examples of that theory.

“We do not have TV, computers and phones. Here, people hold real conversations and parents spend time with their children, take them on picnics, go for treks and camping.”

“Wow!” This seemed like a very nice place. Why couldn’t they have something similar in the human world? She wondered.

“Young girl, I think you should leave now. The sun is about to set. Once it does, you will never be able to leave this place.”

Rhea stood up and planted a soft kiss on the elderly lady’s cheeks which felt like crepe paper but smelled of love, purity and wisdom.

She then turned towards the way she had come. On the way, she saw a lone horse grazing at the grass. That was her Pixie. Taking hold of her reins, she started walking towards the blue door. The door opened.

As Rhea was about to step over, she hesitated. And the next moment the door closed with a finality. The sun had set. And for once, Rhea was happy. But where was she?

Where do you think Rhea chose to be?

*************************************************************************************

I am participating in the Write Tribe Festival of Words – June 2018

Write Tribe Festival, Short Fiction, Flash fiction
Write Tribe Writing Festival

The Sacrifice

Short story, fiction writing, photo prompt, flash fiction, the sacrifice, the staircase
The Sacrifice – Flash Fiction

She started packing her clothes. She was generally a neat person, but today she was throwing clothes haphazardly in her trunk. Leaving her red bridal saree behind, she picked up the trunk in one hand and left the room.

He came out of his trance when he realised he was all alone in the bedroom. He ran after her and caught up with her as she was climbing down the giant staircase.

“Hear me out, Damayanti.” He told her politely.

If he had shouted, she would have not paid heed. But his soft voice broken with despair made her stop.

She put the trunk down and sat on the step. He too sat beside her.

“Haven’t you said enough? Now, you hear me out.” Damayanti croaked. Damayanti’s cheeks were wet with tears. As soon as she wiped them, fresh hot ones came gushing out of her eyes.

“Do you realise what you have done? Just because you were not strong enough to stand up to your father, you have spoilt my life. I could have married Kedar, the love of my life. But, your father came to my home seeking my hand in marriage. He offered a sum that my poor baba couldn’t refuse. He even promised baba that he would give back my father’s land without charging interest. Baba didn’t think twice before saying yes. No one asked me what I wanted? And now this?”

“Why did you marry me?” She shouted at him.

“Shshsh….! Speak softly, Damayanti. People will wake up.”

“As if I care. Let them all know the truth. Let them know that the favourite son of the house is not interested in women, but men.” She said again in a loud pitch.

“Damayanti, I beg of you. Please talk softly. What do you think will happen if you leave me? Have you thought it through? My father will send his goons to your house – no one in your family will see tomorrow’s sunrise. That’s what you want? As for me, he will get me married again to another girl whose poor father will agree to marry his daughter against money and land.” Roshan laid out the terms matter-of-factly.

Fresh bout of tears flowed down Damayanti’s cheeks. Her mehendi hadn’t even faded while her marriage had already ended. She realised what Roshan was saying was true. She couldn’t do this to her poor parents and her siblings. Her life was done for.

“All you have to do is bear me a couple of sons. I know it won’t be easy but you will have a comfortable life here, I promise you.”

She nodded.

“Do you think it’s easy for me? Like you, I love someone too. But if they come to know that I love a man, both he and I will be hanged on the banyan tree at the village square, do you understand?”

For the first time, Damayanti felt the anguish in his voice. Like her, he was suffering too. She had always thought that it was a sin to be born poor. But now she realised it was a sin to be born different too.

“Maybe in the next birth we can both be free of our sins.”

“Maybe we won’t have to wait until then for the winds to change.” There was hope in his voice.

Damayanti put her head on Roshan’s shoulder. Sitting on the staircase, they both dreamed of a different world.

*************************************************************************************

I am participating in the Write Tribe Festival of Words – June 2018

Write Tribe Festival, Short Fiction, Flash fiction
Write Tribe Writing Festival

Hidden Rings

Fiction short story carnival
Do they meet after 10 years?

Reuben and Sarah were best friends since they were 5 years old. They were neighbours, classmates and went to the school in the same bus. When they grew up and wanted to explore sex, they slept together. It was the most natural thing to do. So, it was only natural that when they turned 21 years old, their parents talked to them about marriage.

“But I don’t want to get married. I want to get out of this hell hole and explore the world. I want to do something great and not tied down with a wife and kids.” Reuben told Sarah.

Sarah nodded. “I have never known any other boy except you, Reuben. Even I don’t want to be tied down to the person with whom I have grown up. I want to meet other boys, flirt with them, break their hearts, cry in love and then may be settle down with a fine young man.”

“So, it’s decided. We are not getting married.” Sarah agreed.

Three months later, Reuben was flying out of India. The morning before Reuben was leaving, he called Sarah to meet him at their usual haunt – on the beach behind the rock. Reuben showed Sarah two gold rings with their names engraved.

“Sarah, no one knows us better than each other. We also complement each other well. Let’s meet here 10 years from today. If by that time, we are both unengaged and want to get married to each other, we will dig up these rings. However, even if one of us is unwilling, we will leave the matter unspoken and meet again after 10 years.”

They dug up a hole under the giant rock and hid the rings. The two friends hugged each other for a long time.

Ten years later, they met at the beach behind the same rock.

Reuben was a photojournalist and was traveling from one country to another and scaling one mountain after another. He was living his dream. Sarah was a homing bird. In all these years, she didn’t leave Goa even for a day. However, her husband had left her recently.

Reuben hugged a distraught Sarah. The rings stayed there, forgotten under the sand.

The sands of time continued to fall. Ten years later, Sarah reached the venue earlier. She dug up the rings and hid them in her pockets. She was looking forward to meeting Reuben and had been counting months, weeks and days.

At 41, he was a good-looking man. Save for a few grey hair at the temples, age had more or less left him untouched. He had also become hugely popular. His heart-wrenching photo-story of the Soviet-Afghan war had earned him many accolades.

“How are you, Sarah?” Reuben asked, his concern genuine which made Sarah feel warm to her bones.

“Better now after having seen you. You are going places, mister!” Sarah teased him.

“You don’t have any idea, Sarah. It’s the most exciting time of my life. My work’s getting appreciated from all corners of the world. Every week I am in a new country. Girls are literally throwing themselves at my feet.”

“So, what are the plans for the future?” Sarah asked. She wasn’t so confident anymore.

“The same as usual. Visit more places, capture more images and tell more stories.” Reuben was too much concentrated on himself to see Sarah’s smile falter and her eyes welled up.

“Sarah, you should marry again. Let bygones be bygones. You deserve to be happy,” were Reuben’s last words before he left.

Sarah put the rings back in their rightful place and left the beach all alone. Thankfully, no one could see her crying in the dark.

It was 1st May. Thirty years ago, they had made the promise to meet each other at the rock, behind the beach. They had not broken their promise once. Today was no exception.

“Sarah, I have come back for good.”

Reuben was amazed at the way Sarah looked. Her face was calm, her actions unhurried and her eyes looked as if they had found inner peace.

“I don’t want to live out of a suitcase anymore. Even after 30 years, I couldn’t build a place I can call home. I have seen the greed and pettiness in men who have more wealth than they need. I have also seen the hunger and misery in kids of war-ravaged countries. I am tired of travelling the world. I have realised that Goa is indeed the best.”

Sarah smiled.

“Sarah, here are our rings, let’s get married. It’s time we lived happy together.” Reuben was holding the gold rings with their names.

“I am afraid that’s not possible, Reuben.”

Reuben was surprised. He knew Sarah was not married. She was not wearing a ring.

“Why?”

“I am leaving the pleasures of the mortal world and embracing the Faith.”

The rings never saw the light of the day again.

*************************************************************************************

I am participating in the Write Tribe Festival of Words – June 2018

Write Tribe Festival, Short Fiction, Flash fiction
Write Tribe Writing Festival