An Everyday Tale - A 55 fiction

The Snap-




The Fiction-

“It’s the same everyday. What’s the problem with you? Don’t you know how to cook anything else?”

The Television resonated with resentment.

The couple stopped eating, looked up at the television anticipating the wife’s reply.

--- Blip ----

The dining room was thrown into darkness. A power failure. The couple sighed to themselves, lost in their own thoughts.





Author's note-

PS- I left the fiction to be open ended so that people can draw their own conclusions from it. What I have written below is my own general observation.


Sometimes I wonder, Why is that everyone gets married at one time or another. Is that the only course of life thats available or to put it in more blunt terms, the only course of life thats possible?

I have nothing against marriage. In fact, in a way I am happy that the majority of the society still goes along with it. I was born because of it & it does give a sense of order to the society that would otherwise become a chaotic fist fight of which guy gets which girl.

But what completely eludes me is that why do couples who learn that they don't get along with each other after marriage, still prefer to be together.

Maybe, they are afraid of their own loneliness that they choose to live on with their partners, cursing fate for the predicament they are left with.

People are such fragile creatures.



Will meet you guys in the next tale. (I am planning to write a fable next time. :) )

Until then,

Cheers.

A satirical silhouette - a few thoughts tweeted

Guys, This is another collection of my tweets. I have made an attempt at satirical tweets. A few brutal ones, a few silly ones and a few even rhetorical as always.


The Quote -

It is when we learn to laugh at ourselves, we get to know what it is to be ourselves.

--Muthu

Morality -

There is no good & bad. Just a Grey area of uncertain morals. People paint them definite colors with their own prejudices.

Nobody wants to hurt any1 unless of course they don't know about it. After all gun makers don't cry over the victims.

Of course sex is the most natural thing in the word& that why people's faces usually turn red when U say anything about it.

In a way all humans are masochists, even though life has shown us it's painful face more than once we still learn to enjoy life.

There is no such thing as a clear conscience- It s a myth like tooth fairy. U make it up 4 kids who still believe sex is kissing.



The snap- A wicked definition.





Out of the box--

When sum1 asked me 2 inspire him fast. I slapped him hard& "boom" he was inspired 2 slap me back. After all hate 22 inspires.

Some1 said real beauty is skin deep& am still searching him 2 kick his ass. Wat really is d use of having a beautiful pancreas.

Of course all guys are jerks and shit heads. How else do U think we manage to fall for gals. :P

Bathing everyday is just a reminder 2 let U know tat- there is space 4 improvement everyday-

Wen people say they don't have regrets, they just don't want to accept that they could have done things better. Its OK 2 regret.



The snap- Sometimes it's fun, even inside the box.





Of Politics & Society-

Sharad Yadav says- Pass d women's reservation bill& I will consume poison& die- I say- Thank U Sir, Indian govt could really use your early retirement

Comedians are not politicians but of course U cannot always say d same about thing about politicians being comedians.. :D

Politics is of course a potty hole of shit- but then we do need to keep our toilet clean. Right??

Lalu says- d society is adversely affected by gay sex. I say-Of course Lalu ji-Ur wisdom trespasses all boundaries just the way ur family size has.

Why does Lalu think Gay sex is a crime- He is afraid that some guy might make a pass @ him. After all he is the father of a dozen children :P

Of course everybody watches rakhi ka swayamvar - It feels good 2 know tat even Rakhi has competition for her hand. :P

My mom is totally against same sex marriage. She think tat its against nature. But then mom- even dressing is not natural Y should we do it?



The snap- Too much thinking can also have adverse effects. Do be careful-






Author's note-

Satire is one of my favorite genres. To ridicule with wit is the basic idea of satire. The tweets posted in the political section are a bit old in the time line(Since I wanted to post them as a collection, I delayed the post). & also these tweets are not absolute truths(they are variable with difference in opinion) and If you feel different, do feel free to spar words. After all it is the difference in Ideas and Ideals that makes life chaotic and beautiful.

If you liked the above, please do follow me in twitter. My handle is @aarthycrazy. I may not tweet regularly but then my tweets aren't that regular either.

Definitely Dowry – A Short Story

Dowry - The definition –

Money, goods or estate that a woman brings to her husband in marriage. It has a long history in Europe, South Asia and Africa. Being a conditional gift helping the husband to discharge the responsibilities of marriage, its practice more or less disappeared in Europe in the 19th and 20th century. However the practice grew in South Asia where in some cases delayed or insufficient dowry has made some young wives the victims of torture and sometimes death by the in-laws.

The snap-



The Story:


He slowly opened his eyes, waking himself out of the final traces of slumber and found his hands instinctively reaching out to his side to his newly wed wife. The warmth of her sent a tingle through his skin and just as he lifted his head of the pillow to see whether she was asleep or awake, he felt her hands ruffle through his hair and simply smiled. The room was bathing in the morning’s golden sunlight- warm and lustrous thrusting life into every thing it touches. She got up, walked up to the window and stood there looking outside, the light bounced on her and exploded into a million rainbows. He took a deep breath savoring the loveliness of the morning on his wife and thanked his lucky stars that he got married to this lovely lady, as he got behind her and slightly brushed his lips against her cheek kissing her.

It looked to him as if she was deep in thought and like any new husband ready to impress his wife in a jiffy, he asked her what was on her mind. She looked into his eyes, gave a slow sad smile, then said “Nothing, it was just something I was thinking”

“Something huh???”

“Yeah it’s ok. It’s no big deal”

He stood there looking at his wife ordering some tea through the room service telephone, totally bewildered and stumped, unable to understand why she just blew him off without any answer. He must have stood there for a while; she looked at him, tilted her head as she always does when she questions him and quipped “What?? Why are you staring like that??"

“Nothing, it’s just that I was wondering whats keeping you so lost in thought…….”

She simply sat down at the tea table without showing any intent of responding to the question. What are men supposed to do when they met with such indifference while talking to a girl? After all men are logical creatures, who would rather understand quantum mechanics than the workings of the mind of the fairer sex. Without an inkling of an idea on what to do, he did the right thing, he simply waited for her to answer.


Exasperated with the long silence, he started to contemplate on breaking it with some idle prattle, just then the tea arrived. Eying his large tip, the room service who brought the tea pot gave a big smile and after making sure that the couple did not need any other thing, he left the room as deftly as he entered. The tea was tepidly warm and refreshing. He inhaled the aroma and started to sip it. It gave him something to do rather than to stare at his wife who doesn't seem to acknowledge him.

“Have I been sold to you darling??”

He chocked. Her feminine voice, so calm yet sharp in an morbid manner churned up his insides, rattling him. The tea along with the words and the tone that she delivered them, it couldn’t have been more bizarre. When kicked in the balls by a girl, a guy though in pure torturous pain rarely responds violently instead he simply stands there wondering what in god’s holy name did he do to deserve this. It was in such a state of poetic pity, that the newly married husband was left with.

Women are invariably comfortable with monologues especially when they need to speak their heart out. They just need someone who would listen. Someone who would listen to them seriously, then chide them with a smile and a kiss for thinking things in such a silly pretext.

“It’s the dowry that keeps bugging my mind. I don’t really see the need of it, in the least the reason behind it. Well, it’s not like we are in medieval ages, it’s the 21st century and for heaven’s sake I earn as much as you do. It hurts me plenty to know that I have just been sold to the best bidder. How else can I put the money and property that you and your parents got out of mine? How more pathetic my father could have been blaming the society when I asked the same question to him – Am I being sold?”

She then gave a sardonic smile and brushing away a few strands of hair that were falling to her gloomy eyes; she looked at him and quipped like saying the punch line for a bad joke. “And you know what the real fun part is, not even a single soul understood me, even barely listened to me”

After a second or may be two, he stood up from the tea table and went to her, laying his hands on her shoulder he kissed her forehead, and looking deep in those dark raven black eyes, he said in the most empathizing voice “I understand”. Blossoming flowers drenched in dew were put to shame as her eyes turned moist and she kissed him as if it was the most natural thing to happen and overwhelmed with gratitude, she quipped “Thank You”. He couldn’t have been more understanding.

After a few cherished seconds of cuddled warmth, she gave him a peck on the cheek and went to the bathroom to shower. He moved about to the balcony and after a few seconds of thought, rang up his father in law from his mobile and was greeted by his sleepy voice. After the usual chit chat, the newly married son in law stammered more than a little bit trying to find the right words. “Actually……..I called to confirm……… whether you credited to my account ……… that money you promised”

“No, not yet. I was thinking of transferring it to you in a couple of days. Why? Is there any problem? Are you guys doing OK?”

“Yes of course we are fine. Well, the thing is……. It would be good if it’s done by tomorrow and please don’t let her know that I requested this of you. I mean………. you know her. It would upset her”

The father in law answered with the most empathizing voice “I understand”

The son in law was so overwhelmed with gratitude, that he simply quipped “Thank you”. After all he couldn’t have been more understanding.

The Guidance-- A 55 fiction

The Snap-



The Fiction-


"Papa, He took my ball...... took my ball...."

The child came whining at the top of her unbroken virgin voice.

"It's your ball. Right??"

The six year old looked up at her father and nodded.

"So, What are you going to do about it??"

The sharp question put the child to silent thinking.

Her father just smiled.



Author's note-

A child is an individual with it's own thinking, capabilities and creative intuition. More often I come across parents who feed their children on what to do, rather than kindling their own child's problem solving quotient. In a culture like ours, where kids stay with the parent until almost they get married, I think parents guide their children a little too much.

After all, how many times have we heard parents saying- "I made all the decisions for her till now. I care for her. So wouldn't it be appropriate for me to find her a good suitor."

Parenting is a gift, a bliss. To see a child make it's own mistakes, it's own choices and to take part of it's tears and laughs in it's life is a privilege in it's own right.

ps-
Guys, If you would like to read more of my 55 fictions, kindly do so with given link. Hope you enjoy the same, Cheers.

Rest In Peace – A short story.

The Snap-



Even the most daring of the prostitutes, avoided that alley, not because that it did not have customers with deep pockets and weird fantasies to be fulfilled but because it was a bad omen. In better words, a suicide wish. Death was blatantly splashed across the walls like cheap paint peeling away at it's frayed corners. Life just decayed there, breathing into the environment it's remains, dark, damp, putrid smell of rotting soul. A better stage could not have been asked for, for the drama that was about to happen.

It was inhumanly cold like the silence that cloaked and drank the alley in it's darkness. The three men stood there staring at each other, daring the others to make a move. One of them, a dull red shirt was the first one to make the move. He rushed at the other two with his knife, eyes full of murderous intent, no wonder he missed the misgivings of the ground below him. He tripped and fell down with a dull thud. He laid there on the bare lifeless gravel, with his own life slowly ebbing out of him along with the blood dripping out of his broken forehead.

The other two looked at each other and exchanged a smirk. “What a shmuck!!!”. Fucking died; without even putting up a decent fight. One of the standing two, the sadistic leader slowly came forward, with measured steps, eying the red shirt for any last signs of life. After all they will have to confirm the kill but what really is the fun in rushing things. After all, the fun has just started. Hasn't it?? .

He tried arousing the dying man with his feet, which answered with no response. “Shit!!” He thought. He never got his arousals until he heard them cry and beg for mercy, to just finish them off and when people went out without that last cry of anguish, it enraged him. He kicked with his heavy soles into the abdomen, the victim cried out in the bliss of the pain. The tormentor grunted his approval with a malicious grin that lit his face in the dead darkness of the alley. He turned and looked at the face of his partner and beckoned him to join the fun.

It was then that fate started to cast it's own dice. He felt pain, sudden succumbing pain. A knife stuck into his shin was so hard, it ruptured a few veins that blood didn’t just ooze out but slowly flowed to paint the alley road a dense dark crimson. Instinct took over all his senses and be simply bended over holding his leg. A mistake and just as he realized that the knife was all the way through his left eye, tearing apart the softer tissues of the brain. He fell down dead.

Exhausted with his vengeance with the knife, the dull red shirt laid there panting and fighting for air in the cesspool of blood. The third guy now shivering and white faced enough to term him a corpse slowly edged towards them; dead and the nearly dead, and stood there twitching in fear not knowing what to do. Must have been a bit of a gutsy guy for his first murder, he slowly knelt down to check on his comrade and just then, it happened. The red shirt in his attempt to breath through all the gathering blood opened his mouth and started to choke in his own bloody mess. He died, giving gave away his last breath;A ghoulish guttural.

That low haunting sound broke whatever remaining guts, the third guy had. He started to run as if he was possessed. Not just out of the alley but he ran until every single muscle in his soul was totally exhausted. His fear washed away with the remnants of his sweat. He did not want to be there. He wished he did not see what he just saw. He did not want to stop running. He just ran.People, when they fighting death after putting up what they think it is their final struggle, simply surrender themselves to it without even trying. Maybe that was why, when the third guy realized that he had stopped running in front of a speeding truck, he didn’t even try to dodge. He became one of those hit and run casualties, dead even before hitting the ground.

The sky slowly darkened in mourning and the sound of the rain drops mixed with the sirens of the ambulance and resonated all along the alley as distant echoes.

Three were dead. There was no relation or any similarities that were found between them in investigation except of course in the burial ceremony, where all the three were said to be the children of god who were pure in soul and though good in character, had been corrupted and forgiveness was asked, for the almighty is all forgiving and benevolent.


And the dead could rest in peace. For after all, the dead rarely lament.





Amen.



Author's note-

I have always loved dark stories & I think that this is just my own version of a very short murder story. I wrote this a while ago. I just thought it would be apt for posting after editing a few parts of it. Hope you guys like it.


I am a bit busy traveling and may not visit your blogs regularly. Please do bear with me. I will catch up with you guys soon.


Cheers...