The silent melody- A short story

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 31; the thirty-first 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. The theme for the month is 'Strangers in the Night'

The fiction-

A slow Jazz music filled the dead silence of the hospital, its melodious notes dragging their feet across the almost empty hospital corridors resonating with the dry lonely lights spaced uniformly across the length of the walkway. A few nurses who were going about their jobs stopped and listened not believing their own ears. A few patients who were still awake blinked stupidly wondering what the loud music was doing near the ward for terminal patients. It was then that Frank Sinatra’s lucid baritone started to croon the lyrics of his once famous song-

Strangers in the night

Exchanging glances

Wondering in the night

What were the chances?

We'd be sharing love

Before the night was through

The duty doctor who was finishing up his last rounds stopped in mid-step hearing the song. His own heart suddenly picked up speed and literally started to pound against his ribs, as he reversed his direction and started running towards the source of the sound. A few nurses and orderlies of the night shift were also rushing along breathless in the same direction.  The motley bunch of curious patients who had already gathered outside the room from which the music was coming moved away jerkily making may for the rushing mob all in their medical whites. Their panic stricken faces heaving up oxygen trying keep up with their plodding legs. A locked door shut from the inside of the room greeted them.

The doctor took control of the situation seamlessly, ordering an orderly to break open the door using the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall nearby. He then rushed to the window and peeked inside its crevices trying to grasp what’s happening on the inside. Someone from the crowd behind whispered “but the door opens to the outside….. How did he manage to lock it?  And from where did he get his stereo” Nobody had any answers. Just more questions that echoed in the hollows of their mind, the more important questions that they did not dare to ask aloud. What is he doing inside? More importantly what is he doing to her? Is he suffering a mental breakdown? It’s not something new to happen in the terminal patient ward but happening to him was quite a surprise. 

Dealing with cancer always gets to you, breaks you, makes you do crazy things. Seeing life ebb out of the one you love a single bit at a time with each and every passing day, with no way to stop it, counter it but to simply slow it, as they wallow in their own suffering, the empty words of faith falling meaningless in their darkening world. With too much hurt drenching them down, nibbling away at their edges, as they try to plod though life smiling, pain takes new meanings literally.  

“I see them” shouted the orderly breaking the door. “I see them. The door just gave a crack. I….” He paused with a pained voice and turned his head from the door looking up at the doctor “I think he is crushing her, suffocating her”. The doctor leaped to the door plunging his eye into the broken rift in the door. A few seconds stood sweating without the heart to pass on; together with the bunch of people standing around waiting for the young doctor to give his speak.

“Bloody bastard……. He is making her dance with him.” He turned around enraged and snatched the fire extinguisher from the orderly and started going at the door, all the while cursing mad.  “Bastard…. I told him. Fucking bastard….. I told him. She is too weak. She cannot take the strain.” Sinatra sang along ignoring him.

Something in your eyes

Was so inviting

Something in your smile

Was so exciting

Something in my heart

Told me I must have you
Strangers in the night

Two lonely people

We were

Strangers in the night

Pieces of wood, dust and broken strips of plaster flew in the air with each ram the door took. Plaster….. The fucker had used plaster, fucking plaster on the entire door to shut them out. And thatsealed the door leaving no weak or easy fracturing points. Soon the other orderlies joined in going at the door with everything they had. The door slowly started to cave in giving into the inhuman beating that it was receiving. Cracks slowly broke into rifts that started to fissure though the entire structure of the door. Someone shouted “we are almost there”. And then suddenly the door tore open.

And they rushed in, the doctor, the orderlies and the nurses spilling into the room each one spinning out of control rushing with the flow of the crowd, they saw one of the weirdest sights ever. An elderly couple slowly moving around locked in their embraces; her lanky figure with the flowing white hospital gown, himself suited up in his best threads; her bony hands clinging to his bosom; his arms around her, holding her with care as he dipped and moved her around to the warm and wafting melody. Her shriveled face looked satisfied, her eyes closed rejoicing the swing of the movement, the ease with which he held her, the love with which he moved her around, ever so gently and his burning eyes that betrayed his own pain, seeing her wince in distress with each and every turn, her frail figure going rigid in his hands, the few wisps of hair on her bald head, the occasional gasp when the stress and the pain are too much for her. Sinatra’s regal voice dived into the simple lyrics once again.

Up to the moment

When we said

Our first hello

Little did we know,

Love was just a glance away,

A warm embracing dance away.

“Ma….” Cried the doctor as he separated his mother from his father and set her on the bed. She looked exhausted, her lungs trying to breathe in gulps and failing, her pulse stammering erratically, her tiny body wrestling with the few drops of life left in her, she looked forlorn, expect for her eyes, her eyes that twinkled with a mischievous grin. She beckoned him to her and started to slowly mouth something. “Ma, don’t strain… please.” He whispered, his voice begging as he bent down to catch her words. Her flailing voice fluttered. “Don’t be hard ………. on your father. He could ……..” She paused thoughtfully and whispered with a mellow fondness “Never refuse me”

“Nurse, some help here…” He shouted as he started to treat his exhausted and ailing mother. He never noticed the single tear that raced across his quivering cheek.

The music still played, left unattended to in all the happening commotion and was painting bold strokes of intense love in the vibrating embers of air. Seconds slipped around, danced swirling into a few minutes.

Ever since that night

We’ve been together

Lovers at first sight,

In love forever

It turned out so right

For strangers in the night

He slowly walked to the door after treating his mother. His father was sitting on the bench outside the room staring into the dead of the night, alone with his own thoughts.

“How’s she?” he asked as soon as he saw him.

“Exhausted... completely” he paused sitting near him. “But okay..... She's okay”

His father let a deep breath out and closed his eyes. They sat there silent, lost in each other’s thoughts. Neither of them spoke. Neither felt the need to. They simply sat there sharing not just the space and the silence. The biting cold did not seem to bother them in the least. The song had finally ended.

Author's note - 

Thanks a lot to Sadiya Merchant, for introducing me to to Frank Sinatra's - Strangers in the night. I don't really know whether she was inspired by the song itself but I myself was. The song is going into my favorites. As for the story, I wanted to create one that would start and end with a single song, the song itself being an integral character of the story. hope you guys enjoy it.

I would severely recommend listening to the song and reading the story. The song itself is a statement of love, poignant, lucid and heart felt. Just close your eyes and listen to Sinatra creating the atmosphere of pure love and it's joy.  For more information about the song, kindly visit here. 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: 03

The wounds will heal- A 55 fiction.

The Snap-

The fiction- 

“Hold still.”

“Hmhm.”

“I will be done in a minute.”

“Hmhm.”

“It will take a couple of days. But it will heal.”

“Hmhm.”

“Try not to strain yourself until the wounds heal.”

“Hmhm”

And just after he bandaged her, he stammered “I….. am sorry”

Silence fell hard, for once harder than his thrashes.

Author's Note-

When people read my post - Two minutes- A short story, I was asked whether the fiction was about domestic violence. While answering back to those comments, I was inspired to write a shot fiction about the same topic. I wanted the story to be brutal, realistic and hard hitting. Hope you guys like it.

ps-

I am experimenting with my blog's appearance, so guys I would like to have your comments on the topic. Thank you.

Two Minutes- a 55 fiction

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 29; the 29th 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. The topic for this month is 'TWO MINUTES'.

The snap-

The fiction- 


"Remember our first time....."
She almost smiled. "yeah, until those noodles got cooked"
"Two minutes..."


Silence hung, hard.
"I want to go back.." she whispered, eyes closed.


A lone tear, few seconds dragged by.

"Here we are" he whispered back.
She smelled noodles in the kitchen and started to sob. He bent down & kissed her still healing, scarred face.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Her primary Colors- A set of 55 fictions

The Snap-

The fiction-

His deliverance- (the blue story)

“Go on…” she nodded.

A few shadows turned back shocked at the dry nonchalance pouting from her voice.

He left. Not once did he turn back.

Perhaps guilt finally saved him from her burning eyes.

Tears poured along her remaining tatters but then she was not going to build her family on another one destroyed.

The snap-

The tail/tale of the giant asshole- (the green story)

“Go on…” she nodded.

“That’s it” He retorted.

She sighed. Men can be giant assholes at times. Perhaps they are all the time. It just misses getting noticed.

“No” she calmly replied. “There could have been more but then, didn’t we just find out you have a wife. Now get lost. I am nobody’s substitute.”

The snap-

Cookie jar delicacies- (the red story)

“Go on…” she nodded.

A kid caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. He blinked at her and his wife standing at her doorway.

“What’s happening?” His voice wavered slightly.

“Oh, I called her. Nothing personal. It’s just that” She paused. “I hate it when men play women for fools.”

Author's note-

Some time back, I wrote a similar set of 55 fictions, with the same starting theme but ending in different ways. I tried the same with the idea to write responses of women on finding out that the guy they were seriously dating was already married. I wanted 3 of them, so that they will each represent different reactions based on primary colors, hence the name of the title. I wanted the endings to be bitter sweet, not a totally morbid one.

Randomness - a few selected dialogues-

Of a random lot of people we get to talk to and of the chaos of conversations in our daily lives, a few do stay with us. Having it's own sense of sense of humor and satire, even a mild bit of romanticism included, this is a summation of a few interesting conversations that I had with the guys I met over here in Hyderabad.



Of girls and future partners-


Deepak - "I want a nice cultured gal. A girl who hasn't been introduced yet to the fast life style of the modern society, preferably a village girl. Perhaps a bit cute and bubbly. Imagine all the fun, I will have taking her to all new places, looking into her eyes when they go wide with awe as she looks at all the new things to which she hasn't been introduced to in life."

"Ahh... It will be a total blast. I want my marriage life to be an exploration for her. May be, I will convert her into a village girl into a modern girl."

He paused. Took a deep breath taking in the bliss of his dream. After a second or two of silent reminiscence, he turned & looked at me.

"What about you? What kind of girl, you want?"

"hmhm, I want a modern girl. Someone who knows about everything. Someone knowledgeable and yeah, She should have a great smile"

"A modern girl" Deepak retorted.

"Yeah, Perhaps someone who has already been in a relationship..."

"What" His voice punched me back.

"Yeah, someone who has already been in a relationship. Someone who knows the value of what it is to be in a relationship. Someone who knows that relationships are more than sharing SMSes and flirting. Someone who can be mature when I get silly, Someone who can see me beyond all the facade of hormones. Someone who knows, what it is to be heartbroken. Someone to share life with."

"But, in that case, you won't be the first love for that girl, Muthu. They wont be fresh for you." Deepak looked at me questioningly.

I calmly answered back - "That's OK. I never said that I am fresh either."



The snap-





Of Morality as a life issue-


Harish- So you drink?

"Yeah, Occasionally & when I do so, I prefer vodka."

Harish did not reply anything back. He just sat there looking at me with a mild smile.

"What da?? Do you think that drinking is that bad?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Of course, It's bad. Right?"

After a second of silent thought I replied- "Depends on how you look at it..."

"Really, & what do you mean by that?"

"Well, lets say, you are a guy who always has stood for what you think is good. Righteous. Always living your life by the norms of the society. So you get a good job, get married to a good girl, create a good family, leave a good legacy behind. In the end, what do you think you have achieved. You have achieved nothing. You have just followed the road that was taken & still being taken by countless Indians, who live their lives not for what they desire but for what the society desires out of them."

"People will say - Accept today's pain for tomorrow's happiness. That's the most silly piece of advice anybody can give you. You can never enjoy anything that you did not love doing. It's no different from school education, we study because we are told that's what everybody does. A bunch of sheep following another bunch of sheep. So, you work hard to get accepted by the society, what next. After you have achieved, the so called public acceptance, what are you going to do? Is your life that all... Trying to gain the approval of someone doesn't even have a face to be identified with."

"I live life the way I love it. Maybe, it's not in accordance with the morality that's usually defined. But I do not disturb anybody. I just want to live life for me, do things that I rejoice, Be happy for what I am. I wont be appreciated for that after my death. But then by my death, I would have millions of cherished memories. So what people are going to say about me, now or ever- doesn't really matter, Does it??"

"& anyways only when you love what you are doing, the spectacular best in you comes out... Right??" I challenged him with a questioning smile.


"You are dangerous guy da. I should try stay away from you" He replied back.

"Really!!" I laughed. "Why??"

"You almost had me convinced there.."




Of Love & Marriage --


Mukesh- "What about you da... love marriage or arranged marriage."

"Hopefully, Love marriage da." I replied.

"Really, do you have a girl friend now"

"Nope"

"Then...."

"Well, I think, I will fall in love in the near future."

"What if, you never fall in love da"

"That probably wont happen...."

"I only asked, what if??"

"Then probably, I wont marry...."

"What?? Really" He asked me incredulously.

"yeah, a marriage for the sake of marriage is a waste of everything da.."

After a second of thought, he asked me back-

"Then what about your sex life da??"

And for once I did not have a wise retort to answer him back. I looked at him blankly for a moment before changing the topic with a mild joke. But then, It did make me wonder- Do people really get married so that they can have legalised sex.



Author's note-


This post is not an attempt to criticize anyone's point of view but I wrote it, so as to bring the variety of opinions that people can have with regard to everything and anything in life.

Something to die for – A 55 fiction.

The snap -





The Story -



“If I am death, will you embrace me…?” She asked.

“Things may go wrong, our parents may curse, make things horrible for us, our relatives will downcast us, the society will cook us into gossip, we may have no support in life tomorrow, may be we will suffer the worse.” She paused and said in a strong decided tone “But I love you.”

She stood there waiting for his reply. His brown eyes were unfocused lost in thought.


Please say yes… She thought...... Please say yes….. please say yes….. please…. Her insides were shaking... What is he thinking? What is there to think? I am ready to take the leap. Please let him just say the word. I love him, love him more than I ever loved myself. Does he know that? I love him. love him. Love him. Love him. Please I beg you god, let him say yes…. Let him jus... And then her thoughts hit a wall and her mind went blank.

He had hugged her………. hard.



Note –

Guys, I thought that the original i wrote first spontaneously was good and did not have the heart to cut it down to 55 words. So I left the story as it was though i have labeled it 55 fiction. (all the bloggers were writing something mushy, chronic writer, hopeless romantic - after reading their posts, i got inspired and wrote my own contribution to the mushy fest.)

PS -

Guys, while i was searching for images of couples hugging, the pictures i found at pro.corbis.com were so good; I felt like i suddenly needed a hug in the middle of the night. Pity I didn't get one. [:P]. I chose the snap that best resonated with the story.

The link of the snap - http://pro.corbis.com/search/searchFrame.aspx?txt=%22Arm+around%22+%22Hugging%22+%22Romance%22

The single possible trick to marriage – A short story

The snap-

The Tale-


She still remembered the way in which her parents treated her when she asked them about it for the first time, of course she must have been about 13 years old when she asked it but still even such a 13 year old kid is entitled to get a few decent answers especially when the subject in question is as controversial and as simple such as sex. Thinking back, she wondered why her parents didn’t seem to trust her enough to reveal whatever they thought that sex was. At least they could have spared her of their misleading ideas of babies falling from the sky in brown baskets. Funny how much parents can be creative when they don’t want to answer straight to their kids? May be, she thought that she deserved a few straight answers, so it was then that she made up her mind, when the moment comes she would at least try to be honest with her own kid in the future.


And it hit her when she least expected it.

“Mom, today in school they taught us about sex”

She was totally exhausted from the day’s chores and would have crashed into her bed in a few seconds but the word sex seems to have something about it that whenever it’s talked about particularly by your own kid, the last thing that people want to do is to go to sleep.

“hmhm So what did you learn?” she asked with caution in her voice.

The moon light from the window lit the room and with it the soft features of her little girl. Even in the dark, her tiny eyes glowed with life and curiosity.

“I learnt how babies are made” and the little girl paused. A pause by a practical definition can convey a lot in its nuances and this pause must have been to give time for the mother to brace herself for the oncoming assault as the little one’s next question caught her completely off guard.

“Did you and papa do sex to make me?”

Waffled and baffled would have been the right expression to account for the expression that sprang up on the mother’s face. She must have forgotten that she always wanted to sound direct and crisp in her answers to her daughter, she hesitated a lot more than a bit before she answered “Well, hmmhmm……..yes” she said.

She never knew why she said it. It must have been some motherly instinct wanting her child not to get the wrong idea about anything. “People marry, do sex, have babies, that life sweetie” she said in the most reassuring voice she could muster.

“But teacher said all people who have puberty can do sex.”


That statement was more of a question than any normal question with a question mark hanging at its end. The little girl’s mother was at her wit’s end. How can anyone answer that with out raising any further questions or with out hurting her child in any way? After all she was a kid. How was she to explain to her about sex, hormones and puberty are more than just words, they are a part of life and marriage is not only just about sex, its more than that. How is she to put the complexities of life in understanding words to her kid? She seemed so completely lost. She must have worried too much about too many things; the little girl was already sleeping peacefully when she came back from the wanderings of her mind.




With thoughts about life, marriage, sex and such drifting through her head, she got to the bed. Her daughter’s curiosity has roused her own questioning mind. “How much of a driving force is sex in a marriage” “If fidelity is such a big issue in marriage, doesn’t the entire tradition of marriage seem to rest upon the aspect of whom the we have sex with”

“Hard day huh??” Asked her husband as he turned his eyes from the bedside novel he was reading and looked at her with an empathetic glance.

She nodded her head and sat down on the bed, her mind still lost in her thoughts. Her husband just sat there looking at her face. Looking at a girl’s face while she is lost in her own thoughts is exquisite. Ask a guy in love and he will write you sonnets about it. And the crescendo to that spectacular orchestra of the lady’s face is at the moment when she realizes that you are looking at her and blushes. And it was after such performance of fantabulous proportions that her husband questioned her about what was bugging her mind.



With a deep breath, she lay down by his side and turned to face him.

“Today your daughter asked me about sex”

He grinned wildly. “So she asked you……..”

“What?? Why are you giving me that silly smile of yours?” she nudged him.

Still grinning he said “She asked me first and”

“And you were so clueless on what to answer so you told her to ask me instead. Is that it?”

“Not quite. When she asked about sex, love and marriage the only thing came to my mind was you” he paused as if to gather his thoughts and then said “I simply didn't know what else to think”

She found herself holding his warm and reassuring hands. He needn't explain anything anymore. She loved him to death. No questions. After all fidelity, sex and whatever other possible marital issues maybe, they arise in a marriage when people with age lose their passion for each other. So perhaps there can be only one possible trick to marriage “Be passionately in love with your spouse and for better or worse stay that way forever”

Love and marriage – the forgotten bond

The snap-

The post-

It is now the second month in Tamil calendar vaikasi, one of the most auspicious months for marriages for the Tamils*. In fact I am invited to 4 marriages in this month alone. The inviting music of nathasvaram* and miruthangam*, flowing white vaettis*, the smell of ghee and camphor – everything about the marital ceremony is so poetic.

A lot can be said about the beauty of the ceremony but may be I think that it would be more apt to reanalyze “our system of choosing the bride or the bridegroom”. The bridal hunt is usually initiated by the father figure in the family. They search for the right kind of match based on the following list of criteria.

- They look into the caste & family status of the prospective pair
- The matching of jathagam*
- Wealth and the income of the prospective pair
- Character of the pair
- Dowry money*


After the decision is made by the parents, the decision of the bride or the bridegroom is called for. The system is perfect. The best guy is paired up with the best gal. The status quos of both the families are taken into consideration. The caste members are satisfied because the marriage is usually conducted within the same caste. Even the economic securities of the pairs are taken care of.

The system is perfect. Just too perfect.

Like buying a large house, almost all the facts are written down and planned upon. But is this what a marriage is about. Is it another detailed acquisition activity? Isn’t marriage about two people deeply in love bonding together for life? After all “till death do us apart” is not used often other than in marriages.

May be the way in which the couples are paired up is questionable, but the fact that love is not a main criteria in selecting the couple makes the whole idea even more ridiculous. What after all would be the passion in married life if it does not glow in the hues of love? Of course marriage in response to love is a leap of faith when compared to arranged marriage.

But isn’t it a heart warming feeling to take the leap with the love of your life rather than to go along with the society. May be you will be left armor less against the future, but won’t the rose that your love pinned in your chest give you the faith to fight. Doesn’t the thought of your love waiting for you, fuel you enough to burn up the sun.



May be I am a hopeless romantic – the kind that is slowly becoming extinct nowadays. May be arranged marriage is better than love marriage.
May be it has more security not only economically but also socially.
May be love marriage is too much chancy in the view of my parents and the society.

The “may be”s never matter. I want to marry a girl whom I love with all my heart. After all marriages are made in heaven and my heaven has to be beside me holding my hand.

What about you? Are you the one looking for your life partner or is it your parents?
Hopefully it’s your life. Isn’t it?






Disclaimer: The author has written the blog in his own opinion and experience. He does not intend to prove the anything right or wrong but wants to merely question the way in which the thing in question is usually perceived. All he intends in the end is to make the reader realize that there is more to things than what really meets the eye.





Tamils – people belonging to the southern most part of India, Tamil Nadu.
Nathasvaram and miruthangam – musical instruments of the Tamils. Usually used on auspicious occasions like on marriages.
Vaettis – white dhotis that are a cultural symbol for the Tamils.
Jathagam – a book that is assigned to each and every individual based on his star signs and the effect the planets are having on him. In Hindu mythology each planet is considered to be god having their own effect on each and every individual.
Dowry money – the money that is given from the bride’s family to the new couple to start their new life.