Different yet alike or Alike yet different

He was a part of them, and yet not one of them. He looked like them in appearance but not in the mind. He appeared to be on their side, and yet always followed his own path. He was the youngest in the group, yet mature in his thoughts. He was like that as long as he could remember. 

At seven, when other young boys in the group bathed in the river and played on its banks, he dreamed about sitting with his mother and listening to her songs. At nine, when other boys in class got into fist fights, he talked to his sister. At fourteen, when others talked about girls in deriding manner, he told them stories about brave queens and goddesses that he had heard from his mother. At eighteen, when other boys mistreated their wives, he stayed mum about the way he treated his own. 

He didn't mistreat his wife. But neither did he treat her any special in public. He was educated. But not so much to be able to avoid the social stigma of being called a henpecked husband surrounded by illiterate people he called society.  

Day 3 - Picture prompt

‘I’m Writing Bravely for the Write Tribe Festival of Words – March 2019’

World upside down

I remember that day clearly. The day my world went upside down. It was around 8 in the evening. Sunaina, my wife was on her way back home. She had been a little late from office due to March coming to a close. The weather was getting hotter. Slowly, the weather Gods would be increasing their wrath, as if testing people’s patience or punishing them for their past life’s crimes. I had reached home on time and served myself a couple of glasses of fresh lime juice. The sugary sweet taste of fresh lime juice was a perfect anecdote for the weather. Meanwhile, waiting for my wife, I had cut vegetables and soaked rice. Tonight, we had planned on having biryani. I loved devouring my wife’s biryani. Not just biryani, I loved everything she cooked. My stomach churned a little and I helped myself to a few pieces of cake she had baked a couple of days ago. I left last two pieces as post dinner dessert.

Little did I know my world was about to go upside down in a few minutes. Little did I know that I wouldn’t be able to have my last piece of cake. Little did I know that I would not be able to have my wife’s biryani that day. Little did I know that my wife would come home with a doctor’s report making me a diabetic and snatching me away from the true love of my life – sweets.  

Day 2 - Picture prompt

‘I’m Writing Bravely for the Write Tribe Festival of Words – March 2019’

The colour of everything I knew

The first thing I noticed about you and fell for, it was the colour of your eyes. When we were on the dance floor, it was the colour of my twirling dress. When you held my hand for the first time, it was the colour of the chandelier in the restaurant. When you made me laugh lifting my spirits from its dungeons, it was the colour I saw fading from my mood. When time stopped by as we intertwined our lips, it was the colour of the sky and promises of a happy future. When you took my breath away asking me to marry you, it was the colour of the ocean below us and its reflection in my tears. 

After our first misunderstanding, because you thought I was lying to you, it was the colour of my bruises. As I sat for days and nights crying, it was the colour of the door I pleaded into. While you abused my body night after night, it was the colour of my numbness. When you asked me to cook for you over a call with a voice full of kindness, it was the last colour I saw when I switched on the stove.    

 Day 1 : Picture prompt

‘I’m Writing Bravely for the Write Tribe Festival of Words – March 2019’

Friday Fictioneers - The Sewing Machine

Samar dreaded whenever Sandra would begin dusting the house. She would come to clean his study room which would trigger another argument about giving away this rusted sewing machine. He couldn’t make Sandra understand that it was precious. It was this machine on which his mother had sewn garments all her life to bring him up after his father left. Whatever Samar was today, he owed it to this machine and his mother’s deft hands on it. But for Sandra it was a blot on pricey interior decoration. He sighed and prepared for another exhausting discussion with his wife.

Written for the photo prompt for this week's Friday Fictioneers

In a heartbeat

‘In a heartbeat.’ A voice reverberated in my ears as he tried to push his hands inside my dress. I could feel his warm breath as he nuzzled my neck. I closed my eyes.

‘In a heartbeat’ - an echo.

*Jolt*

His lips were on mine, hands caressing my hair. My eyes closed again. ‘Being around you is like walking on a double edged sword. You know me, without me saying much. That makes me feel vulnerable. Raw. You read me. Sometimes I am afraid to even think in front of you fearing you would read my thoughts. And I reprimand myself into staying away from you. But then, isn’t it wonderful to have at least one person in the world who understands without saying? That’s why you are the double edged sword’. My own words, coming from a lifetime ago that I had said to somebody.

*Jolt*

 ‘All good?’ Rohan asked looking at me intently.

‘Yes’ I replied, running my fingers in his hair and pulling him closer to me.

Respond. I told myself. The body obeyed. While the heart sat there wearing a look swinging between sarcasm and disdain. I felt like a leaf that had detached from its tree and continued to sway in the direction the wind took it. I continued functioning the way I was supposed to. Work. Cook. Travel. Laugh. Like a functioning adult. The leaf missed its tree and I missed my soul.

‘In a heartbeat’. A voice. And then a jolt.

I felt my dress being removed over my head. His hands on an exploration spree. I tried to close my eyes and concentrate on reality. Although it felt as if I was seeing everything from a glass case as a third person. Refusing to feel anything and let anything affect me. Because I was inside that glass case. Nobody could see through it. Except that somebody. ‘In a heartbeat’ - that somebody had said. That somebody with whom I shared my brokenness and whatever little wholeness was left inside me. That somebody who was my best friend but who had a best friend which wasn’t me.  

*Jolt*

He entered. I sighed. Mind fogged up and numbness took over. In the heart. The body responded though. He was happy seeing the body respond. Because he never noticed anything else. I don’t know how much time passed. The only thing that burned my ears throughout was a voice and his words.    

Rohan slept with his breath on my naked back and I lay awake with my thoughts. I had no clue how and why did I get into this relationship. But could you call it a relationship when the only thing both of you shared was the bed? When neither he nor you cared what you were going through? I tried to sleep.

‘If I was with you, would you have found out that I wasn’t feeling anything; that my heart wasn’t into it? I had asked somebody after telling him how empty I felt after I was touched by Rohan the first time and every time after that.

‘In a heartbeat’, he had said looking straight into my eyes in a voice that had haunted me since then. The sword put a gash where it hurt the most, where it was going to hurt the most. That was the last time I saw him.

- Posted for Prompt Nights: Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction. – Where we can opt to write either a poem on truth or create a fiction piece. Or perhaps we can combine both! 
- A Week For Writing - Longings

Idea of Heaven - 55 words

'Cuddled up on an enormous chair with a soft cushion, a cup of hot chocolate and a soft blanket to warm up the insides, favourite book in hand and reading to my heart's content without any interruptions, falling in love with the characters of the book' I replied when asked about my idea of heaven.   

Written for Picture It & Write 

Maze of Life - 100 words

She saw her three year old daughter Meera's twinkling eyes when she told about visiting a new garden. Meera's happiness knew no bounds on seeing colourful rides all around. 'Let's play and see who reaches the end first' she told her daughter pointing towards the garden maze. She sent her daughter from one end while she took another one. Later, she saw her child giggling and enjoying in the maze while she tiptoed her way out of the garden with tears streaming down her face. She knew that if she looked back, she wouldn’t have the courage to do it.

Written for the photo prompt for this week's Friday Fictioneers

A New Life !!

Reva looked at things scattered in the shop that opened in fifteen days. She wanted everything to go well. After all, it was a new lease of life that she had almost snatched from destiny after being duped into marriage to a psycho. Divorce was hard. Even harder was the pressure of being independent. She wasn’t educated but was creative. That’s what she decided to do. Use her talent for turning scrap and mundane things into unusual and beautiful interior decoration pieces. Who would have known that a hobby picked up randomly would be her bread and butter one day!

Written for the photo prompt for this week's Friday Fictioneers

Five Sentence Fiction - Hunger

‘Come on sweetheart, she has been waiting for you since morning and look at you, trying to turn your eyes away from her, trying to run away, I mean what are you even thinking?’

‘I can’t, I just can’t do it however hard she tries to beckon me with that sexy voice of hers. I am not going back to her because I am not falling into her trap again and your trap again.’

‘I am not laying any trap for you and you better get that straight in your head that whatever I ask you to do is for your own benefit.’

‘No, my dear stomach, right now what you are asking me to do is not for my benefit because right now you are not hungry but just plain bored so stop growling since it’s not lunch time yet and I am not going to eat that cookie lying in the drawer however hard you try to persuade me.’

Written for Five Sentence Fiction - Hunger

Rational Me Vs. Emotional Me

Dear Niharika,

Did you notice that I just called you Niharika and not what I used to call you? I am improving, right? Well, I know you might be rolling your eyes on seeing my mail again. I know you have warned me against doing this, but this is just the only way left for me to connect to you, to feel closer to you. I also know, you would be wondering why do I keep on contacting you intermittently. Why is it that I message you continuously for days together and then sometimes I vanish without a trace, becoming non-existent from your life? I know you would be thanking your stars on such days, isn’t it? Thanking God that may be this time I am gone forever. May be from this time, I won’t trouble you anymore. Well, to be honest with you, even I am baffled with my own self these days. 

I tried to think this out. Tried to reason out with myself that why can’t I just let you be? Why do I still have to contact you again and again when everything between us is past tense!

I tried to introspect and I realized that I am in a constant struggle. Struggle within my own self! A constant battle that brews within me. A battle of ‘Rational Me’ vs. ‘Emotional Me’. Let me explain what I mean.

At times, when I vanish from your life, giving you relief that I might have moved on (as you have always wanted), it is the ‘Rational Me’ that overpowers the ‘Emotional Me’. In that battle ground, the ‘Rational Me’ hits the ‘Emotional Me’ with choicest of harsh words wounding the ‘Emotional Me’ badly. The ‘Rational Me’ wishes that the ‘Emotional Me’ dies permanently. It says that there is no place for ‘Emotional Me’ in this world that runs on logic. On such days, the ‘Emotional Me’ bleeds. Tears and Memories! It is quieted.

The ‘Rational Me’ goes on to remind the ‘Emotional Me’ of the struggles the ‘Entire Me’ is going through since the day we decided to split. Wait. Since the day 'you' decided to split for the reason, I am yet to know. It says that you do not love me anymore. It says that whatever we had is over and it would never be back. It says that you have moved on. Or rather moved away from me and it doesn’t seem that you are ever going to be on your way back. It says that your heart doesn't recognize my heart anymore. 

The ‘Rational me’ is successful at almost killing the ‘Emotional me’. It writhes in pain, unable to get up, unable to pump life anymore. And it is during such times that you get lucky and don't receive any harassment from my side. Yes, I am calling it harassment myself. I know you call me the same now.

But then, every aspect has its own strengths. The ‘Emotional Me’ while suffering in pain remembers all the wrong incidents so that it can start believing that you are never coming back, that ‘we’ is never happening again. But while remembering all those wrong incidents, it recalls all the ‘right’ incidents too. 

The ‘Emotional Me’, starts believing that whatever was there between us cannot die so soon. How can something die when it was meant to be 'forever'? But the ‘Emotional Me’ doesn’t know that ‘forever’ is nothing but a sham. The ‘Foolish Me’ (yes, that is what I would prefer calling the ‘Emotional Me’) believes in the strength of that thing called ‘love’. It believes that if this heart calls you earnestly, with all its honesty, your heart would listen. And not only would it listen, it would reply too. 

And it is in this state that the ‘Foolish Me’ contacts you again. Sending you texts, mails and old pictures thinking that they would touch your heart's strings the way it touched when I had sent them to you earlier. The way it touches me, even today. Every single time I see them.  

Image Source : Google

But, you know what, when you reply with harsh words or worse, when you don't even care to reply at all, the ‘Rational Me’ laughs. Oh boy, it laughs. Hysterically, mockingly and sarcastically at the foolishness of the ‘Foolish Me’. It laughs till the time the ‘Foolish Me’ is in tears. It gets mocked cruelly and brutally by the ‘Rational Me’ who repeats 'See, I told you, but you won’t listen. And now when she hasn't even replied to you, why don’t you just go die somewhere!’ 

And that is how the ‘Rational Me’ knocks down the ‘Emotional Me’ again. And thus continues the cycle. The vicious cycle. The vicious cycle of my destruction! I wish this cycle stops itself before it destroys me completely. See, that's how, you are unlucky some days and at times you just get lucky.

At the end, I can just feel sorry for the ‘Emotional Me’, oops, sorry, the ‘Foolish Me’ and for all the troubles that you go through because of Me. Today is just one of your unlucky days. You would have guessed that by now.

Could you just pray that the ‘Emotional Me’ dies soon. Permanently!

 Once (may be always) Yours,

Anuj

What if I run into you someday ?

Dear Someone,

Strange! Strange that we live in the same city, walk the same streets, cross the same traffic signals, see the same buildings, may be even visit same restaurants; every single day. And yet we have never crossed each other. Never. In all these years. In all these years, I have met people I have not wanted to meet. People have run into me at wrong times at all wrong places. But we? We have never run into each other. Never!

Sometimes I wonder if we live in such a huge city that we have never been able to meet coincidently. Is the city so painfully big that we never cross each other? I never realized the vastness of our city earlier. It wasn’t that huge when you came all the way to meet me from one end of the city to another. It wasn’t even that painful to travel to meet you every weekend. I don’t remember myself complaining about the journey ever. Was it because that journey ended in me seeing you? Maybe!

I have inkling that destiny is playing its part? Purposely not letting us cross each. Purposely holding us. Away from each other. May be because it knows the future already!

But, who knows, that maybe, maybe, last Saturday I sat at the same table in that restaurant after you left. Was that the reason I unconsciously chose that table inspite of having an empty table nearer to me? Were those fragments of your empty frame on that table that had tugged my heart for a brief moment at that time? Was that the reason that the waiter stared at me a little longer; maybe he too was recalling the times we went there together and recalling the arguments we had while ordering? Did he recognize the fact that we came one after another and not together anymore? Maybe he did.

Or maybe we sat through the same movie show. Of course, in different rows and of course with different people. I wouldn’t have noticed you in the darkness of that movie hall. The same kind of darkness that engulfs this heart everytime it realizes the fact its beats are no longer heard.

Who knows that you would have just crossed the same street just a few minutes earlier than me? Is that that reason why the air in some streets seem heavy to me without reason. No, may be not heavy. May be it just smells different. As if my senses recognize you. Still. Still.    

Sometimes, I wonder what if I run into you someday. What if, we actually come

across each other at that street passing near your office where I walked down to meet me you or what if you visit at the same time that swanky coffee shop (which you hated and I loved; although I do not know the reason as to why would you visit that place without me forcing you to tag along) or that shopping mall where I spent hours; not leaving the place unless boredom showed on your face and you threatened to leave me there right away which I was pretty sure you never would and you never did.

What would happen then?

Would you recognize me still? I hope you recognize me. I know you would. I would recognize you in the sea of faces around. In this lifetime for sure. May be in another too. Recognize me, ok? Coz I would.

Would you be formal and just say hi or meet me the way you met me earlier? With a hug. Would you hug me the way you hugged earlier? I hope you hug me. I know you would hug me. And I hope you hug me a little longer than usual as if filling in for all those days when you haven’t. Would that hug fill our hearts with the same warmth as it did earlier? Mine would. I hope it does the same to you. Hug me, ok? Coz I would.

Would you smile at me or feel awkward seeing me after such a long time. Painfully long time. For me, I guess. I hope you smile at me. I know you would smile at me. The smile that creates a dimple on one side of your cheek. Smile, ok? Coz, I would.

Would you talk to me in that same nonchalant manner? I hope you talk to me like that. I know you would. Would you ask me how I am doing? Without you? No. No, wait. Don’t ask me that. What if I am honest in my answer to that question? Please don’t ask me that question. Don’t ask, ok? Coz I fear what if I ask you the same question, and what if you too answer it honestly.   

Would you say goodbye a little too soon. I hope you don’t. I know you wouldn’t. No wait. Say goodbye soon. I wouldn’t want you to see my tears. I wouldn’t. But wait. You didn’t see them earlier and you wouldn’t see them now. Say goodbye at the earliest, ok? Coz I would.

You know what; I did run into you at that street near your home a few days ago. Just that it was only me who noticed you. Just me. No, I wasn’t hoping to run into you that day. I don’t remember hoping to run into you that day. I just remember that it rained that day. It rained !! After I ran into you.

Five Sentence Fiction - Waiting

‘He is equally responsible for the project for God's sake and you should have atleast given it back to him for his unprofessionalism.’ she said

‘But I don’t know what were you even thinking at that time?’ she said fuming with anger now.

‘I tried, alright and you know I can’t..’ my sentence trailed off.

‘How can you say you can’t, are you ever going to learn ?’, she went on ranting.

The two voices fought inside my head, while I waited for some magic that would teach me the skill of saying things to people on their face during an argument rather than in my head after the whole scene was over and done with !!

Written for Five Sentence Fiction - Waiting

Five Sentence Fiction - Rain

He folded all the clothes that were to be ironed in the old sari and waited patiently at the verandah for the madam to appear.

He prayed with all his might for a yes to his question because this was the last house where he could ask and if she too denied he would have nowhere to go.

‘I am sorry Shankar, I don’t think it would be possible for us’ said the madam and his last hopes sank, moistening his eyes.

‘But Madam, it is not such a big ..’ and before he could finish the sentence, the door had already closed.

He looked dejected at the sky covered with clouds, ready to burst anytime, remembering the urgent repair required in the leaky rooftop of the small room that accommodated his family of seven members.

Written for Five Sentence Fiction for the prompt - RAIN

Friday Fictioneers - Clouds

Beautiful dark clouds cover the sky. Such a welcome change after summers! What a wonderful romantic evening it is! When Pranay comes home, we would go on a long drive just like old days. It’s been so.. And suddenly the words ‘old days’ echo in my mind and twinge of sadness rises inside me.

I don’t even remember the last time we did something romantic. I never thought that those amazing courtship days would vanish in thin air after getting married. I feel tears rolling down thinking about the beautiful past and a bland present I share with the same man.      

Written for Friday Fictioneers Photo prompt. 

Five Sentence Fiction - Dazzles

As a head-maid, she rushed around the house entire day overlooking the preparations for birthday party celebration to be held in evening.

She knew everything had to be perfect right from decorations, food, cake and return gifts because her madam wouldn’t take anything less than that.

While serving the guests, a quick look and tears rolled down her cheeks seeing her daughter who dazzled in her pink birthday frock looking every inch of a fairy while blowing two candles on her Barbie doll shaped cake.

She knew that being addressed as a maid by her own daughter for entire life was worth the pain because the well-to-do life her daughter was getting at the house where she had been faithfully serving was something she could never have been able to give.

After all, what more can a mother’s heart desire than a child’s wellbeing!!

This five sentence fiction is written for the topic 'Dazzles' at Lillie McFerrinWrites.

A Special Bond

Our flight has been delayed by three hours and we are stuck at Mumbai airport. How strange it feels calling him and me as ‘we’. He has dozed off at the nearby seat. I stare at his face for a long time. Never have I stared at him for so long, so closely. Never had I in my wildest dreams thought that I would be married to him. Not when I had met him briefly five years ago, not while on that trip with the group, not while talking to him on phone when he was crying on the other end and neither while sobbing profusely when he was consoling me.

But nobody ever said life would be predictable. And thus, we are a married couple now. A newly married couple. An inter-caste marriage for which we fought with our parents and coaxed them for months until we were finally successful. But you know what’s strange? That I convinced my parents to allow me to get married to a guy I do not love. Yes, I do not love him. And I know that he doesn’t either.

You would be wondering that if we didn’t love each other, then why on earth were we married. And it was not the typical arranged marriage. We had fought for being with each other. Yes, I would prefer calling it ‘being with each other’ rather than ‘love’.

Because ‘love’ was a feeling that I felt for just one person! The only person who I still call ‘mine’! The only person whose name still brings smile to my lips! Piyush. The person who taught me what love meant. But Piyush is no longer with me today. Though his memories are still afresh as dew within me! We were together for five years. Five blissful years! It was probably during our third year of togetherness that I came to know about Vikram, the person who I now call my husband. But at that time, he dated my best friend Riddhima. He stayed in another city and I heard of him briefly from Riddhima. We also had a couple of meetings formally where I met him along with Piyush.

A few twists and turns later, both of us had been torn apart from our respective lovers – first it was Vikram because Riddima’s parents didn’t approve of him, and then me. And I don’t even know till date why Piyush broke up with me.

Both of us knew about the times we were going through and called each other up a few times. Especially, when we were tired of holding ourselves in front of the world and needed a place where we didn’t have to pretend to have moved on, when we needed a place where we could cry for hours at a stretch cursing life for taking away the persons we loved so dearly from our lives. We talked and talked, each narrating his/her love story to the other. We told each other how much we loved and how badly we missed the love of our lives. We shared the happiest moments about our love lives, or rather our past love lives. We sometimes fought about whose love had been greater. Silly us! We shared similar thoughts about our inability to fall in love with anybody else ever again. Both of us knew we would never be able to love our future partners the way we loved our past.

It was during one such conversation where I cursed societal pressure of getting married, that he suggested about getting married to each other. 'Atleast that way, we wouldn’t have to bear the pressure of cheating our future partners or of trying to fake our love for somebody' - he had said. I laughed at the suggestion at that time. But somewhere it struck a chord within me.

I talked to Vikram later asking if he was serious. He was. We gave it a thought for few more days. And we found that it was the best possible alternative for our aching hearts. We could speak to each other for hours about our pasts because both of us knew that the other person would listen and comfort rather than judge. We knew that none of us needed love of any other person because we were happy reveling in the love and time we spent with our past. And that was the reason why we married each other.

My bag today still carries all the photographs, gifts and memorabilia from Piyush and Vikram still has everything he shared with Riddhima.

It’s been almost a year since we have been talking to each other. And during this entire year, there hasn’t been a day when our aching hearts have stopped aching or our memories have stranded us of our past. We have taken the constant hollow pain, that emptiness as a part of ourselves now.

The only comfort for both of us is that there is one more person who is sharing this void and that’s what makes this bond special. A bond of sharing emptiness, broken hearts and bleeding tears, a bond of cursing fates and hating society and a bond tied to pasts and uncaring of futures!

Written for Write...Edit...Publish. Theme of the month - Romance

Five Sentence Fiction - Marriage

‘Why are you looking so pissed off?’ she said trying to fathom the reason behind his cranky behavior since past half an hour sitting at their favourite restaurant.

‘It’s you who does that to me’ he replied with a stern face looking straight into her eyes.

‘Yes, You! you keep me awake with your phone calls late into the night, your messages keep on popping up on my cell every now and then, your incessant chatter when we meet, and then your stupid ways of making me smile when I am down, and I have to drink all that distasteful soup of yours that you make whenever I am sick, and how can I forget those handmade gifts that you make me for no reason inspite of telling you a hundred times to not spend sleepless nights for making those gifts, but you just won’t listen.’ He said in one breath as if the words were just bursting inside him.

‘Rahul, I just do that to..’ and her sentence trailed off with a lump in her throat and she looked mindlessly at her coffee trying hard to fight tears that were threatening to spill over the confines of her eyes.

‘I want you to do that for me, for a lifetime, not just this one, but for as many number of times I am born, Marry me, will you?’ he said and saw her tears finally leaving her eyes but tagging a faint smile along with them.   

Written for Five Sentence Fiction for the prompt - Marriage