The Friend Circle

"If only I had a gun," thought Ali. "Maybe, if I could blast a bullet in my head, it'd help to stop the pounding." He laughed at the absurdity of the thought almost immediately though, as real life took a grip on him again.

He had never thought that he could fight with Raman the way he did. He never thought that he was capable of saying the things that he did, to Raman; his best friend since childhood.

He wanted to say a lot of things to him; that he hadn't really meant any of the things he had said to Raman when they fought. That he still was his best friend, in spite of everything. Most importantly, he wanted Raman to know that he did not want him to "die and go to hell" as he had told him to.

Ali had tried calling Raman quite a few times, but he had had no luck. He was very hopeful thus, when finally the phone rang. He picked up the phone hastily, only to see that it wasn't Raman, but Kalpana who was calling him.

"Kay. I thought it was Raman," said Ali the moment he picked up the call. "More than thinking, I was actually hoping it was him."

"He still hasn't called?" asked Kay. It was evident that she was worried about the friendship between the two of them.

"Not yet. I tried calling him a bunch of times, but he's not picking up the phone. How am I supposed to make up with him, when he won't answer my calls?"

"Have you tried visiting his place?"

"Last time I went there, he wasn't home. The door was locked, and Mrs. Dixit didn't know where he was either," said Ali.

It was getting insane. He had never felt worse in his entire life. There were very few people who mattered to him where he was. One of them was missing, while the other one was on the phone with him, trying to convince him that things would turn out fine.

"Kay, you don't think he's taken everything that I said to him seriously, has he?"

"I don't think so Ali. It's Raman, our Raman. More than that, it's you guys we're talking about here. I'm sure you guys are gonna figure this out soon. The both of you just need some time to cool down, that's all," said Kay.

"I'm cool now. I am a little worried about Raman. He's not gonna do anything stupid, is he?"

"Nah, he's a mature rational guy. I wouldn't worry about him much. He'd turn up alright, probably with a couple of bottle of beers for the two of you. Who knows?"

"Yeah, with Raman, you never really know," said Ali, as the doorbell rang.

He looked through the peephole, and saw it was Raman, standing just outside the door. Relieved, he quickly told Kay about him.

"He's here Kay; I'll go talk it out with him."

"Yeah, you do that. Then you give me a call and let me know what happened, okay? Don't worry now kid, you guys are alright," said Kay. A click and she hung up.

Ali unlatched the door to find Raman standing with a gun in his hand. He raised it. The bullet made a small coin-sized hole dead center of Ali's forehead, and he crumpled to the floor.

***

Image Courtesy robinn.

A Sucky Day Smiles

Morning 6:30 AM, the alarm clock screams into his ears. With a jerk, he was pulled unwillingly from the wonderful dream that he was enjoying. It starred his darling angel after all, and he had the front row seats to it – but sadly, life had something else in store for him.

A sucky day awaited him.

The after sleep grogginess accompanied him as he got out of the bed, and that's when he got the first taste of the sucky day that was waiting for him. No water in the early morning, his whiny dog whining, while he was in the loo trying to make do with the little water that he had, and a little cockroach in his breakfast. All in all, by the time he was getting out of the house, he wasn't really in the best of his moods.

The Day chuckled gently.

Reaching college, he found that the first class was that of his least favourite teacher. It's said that teachers are fair, but he was sure that his professor hated him, for some reason. Thus, it wasn't a surprise that he had to endure a ten minute diatribe about time management, all because he was ten minutes late. He was so irritated that he couldn't even spot the subtle irony of the situation.

The Day kept smirking at him.

Wading through one boring class after another, he almost fell asleep in the class. The sleep in the class however, is never as comfortable or as desirable as the one he knew he could have enjoyed had he stayed at home. He fought valiantly to keep his eyes open, but his mind just wouldn't listen to him. Finally, mind won over body, and his head slid on the desk. Before he knew it, he was sleeping, right in the middle of the class. As luck would have it – since it was a sucky day for him – the professor noticed. The professor, already on a short temper, having shouted at him for being late, was quick to throw him out of the class.

"Don't come to my classes for the next four days now!" he screamed, as he slouched away, thinking who he had offended to deserve all this.

And a little laugh escaped from the Day's mouth, but he was quick to stifle it. He didn't want him to hear it after all.

After the grueling day, it was finally the time to go back home. It was at this time that his Darling Angel called up, and she seemed quite bugged about something too. She was mad at him, for not having called him up the whole day. He tried to tell her how his day had gone by, but she wasn't ready to listen to his excuses. They fought, and by the time he hung up, he was quite pissed off with life. His troubles were far from over, when he found that because of the pointless argument, he had missed the bus, which meant that he would have to wait for twenty minutes for the next bus to come along.

The Day couldn't help but laugh out loud when it saw the irritation in his eyes, especially as he wondered what happened to him all through the day. The Day was somewhat satisfied to see that he still couldn't figure it out.

Finally, he reached home, and threw his bag into the far corner as always. Accompanied by that strong cup of coffee that he needed in order to sort out his messed up nerves, he ventured out into the virtual world. As he did so, he paused for a moment, steeling himself for the adversities that he felt sure he would feel there as well.

The Day smiled at him, and this time, it was quite a genuine smile.

As he logged on to his blog, he saw the wonderful comments that his readers had left for him. Readers from all over the country, and some even from across the borders. Readers who all told him a common thing – "thank you for bringing us into the wonderful world that you weave, all with just a few words."

And so, he was finally able to smile along with the Day.

~~~~~

Bloggers Unite hosts the Blog Reader Appreciation Day today, and in keeping with that event, this post was my way to say Thank You to the many readers I've acquired over the last few months. I've never been a serious blogger, but when I saw the wonderful appreciation that has come my way, all thanks to you guys, it's made me stick to the blog a lot more than I used to in the past.

Thanks to all of you J.

Just another point, this post is somewhat a mix between truth and fiction. Which is what, however, is not really important… yet.

Cheers to all of you!

***

Image Courtesy roy²

Holy Land

"You know, I was wondering something for a while now," she said suddenly, while he was driving.

"Hmm?" he said, taking a little bit of time to focus on what she was saying. It happens that you get lost in your own thoughts when you're out on the road in the middle of the night, and she understood that. She waited for him to get back to what she was saying before continuing.

"It's been four years we've been together, and two months since we got married, and we've never talked about God, have we?" she asked him.

He hadn't expected this topic while they were out on the road like this, but he had always admired the unpredictability of her thoughts. "No, we haven't. Is that what you were thinking all this while?"

"Yeah. Don't ask me why I started thinking about it though," she said with a smile. He answered back with his smile, and said, "I'm not asking."

"So, what's your take on God?" she pressed.

He didn't answer immediately. He had never really thought about this, never imagined that someone would actually pose this question to him someday. He didn't have an answer ready with him, and so he took some time to form the answer in his head.

"I'm not sure about God. I did believe in God as a kid, especially during the festivals, but as I grew up, I wasn't too sure about the existence of a supreme being," he said.

"So you've become an atheist?" she asked.

"No, not really. More like an agnostic. I don't say there is no God, I just question that theory. I've never had convincing proof for it actually. If I do, who knows, maybe I'd start believing"

It was her turn to become silent now while she looked out the window, lost in her own thoughts. After about a minute, he interrupted her thoughts, and said "What's your take on the subject? Aren't you going to tell me that?"

"Well, I've always believed in God. Ever since I was a little girl, ever since I went to the temple for the first time. Call me crazy, but I've always felt someone there has been waiting for me, every time," she said, a smile lighting up her face.

"Wow, that's sweet," he said, "and just so you know, I don't think you're crazy to believe in that stuff."

"Doesn't your sister believe in God?" she asked.

"Oh yes, she does. She's a devout believer. She thinks that all our lives are in His hands, that everything is His will."

"Well, what if she's right with that train of thought? What if there really is a God somewhere, and He's actually got a big plan for all of us? What if this drive, this conversation, it's all a part of His plan?"

Before he could answer to that, the car stalled with a small lurch. He pulled to the side of the road, put the blinkers on, and wondered out loud, "Was this in the plan as well?"

"Oh ,come on now!" she exclaimed on hearing that. She knew he was joking, but thought it to be a nice opportunity to seize the moment and use it to her advantage. "You're not actually going to blame this on God now are you? I thought you had your doubts about his existence. Convenient, eh?"

"I was kidding. I thought you would understand, sweetheart," he said, with a swift smile before he got out to see what the trouble with the car was.

"I'd have to take care of this trouble now, I don't think Divine Intervention's really going to help us out here," he continued once he was outside. "It's the skills of the Automobile Engineer you've got as a husband that's going to get us out of this one!"

"Maybe it would be your skills that would get us out of here," she said, stepping out of the car herself, "but that doesn't really prove anything. It doesn't prove that God does not exist."

"Well, it doesn't prove that he does either. Which brings us back to the doubts that I had about Him in the first place," he said as he tinkered around under the hood.

"I wonder if that's done it," he said to her, "go in and turn on the ignition; see if it works now"

She went inside and turned the key, and the engine throbbed to life. She could see his smile in the headlights, and he saw her smile when he got back into the car a moment later. Soon, they were back on the road.

"So, why did we have that conversation there, out of the blue like that?" he asked her, as they sped over the familiar road leading back to the city.

"Just like that, I've been wondering about it for some time now. Just thought of bringing it up tonight, that's all," she said.

Up ahead, they could see a little temple, with a candle still burning in the dead of the night. "Let's stop over for a moment over there, please? I'd really like that," she said, turning to him.

"Now? It's getting kinda late, don't you think? We have to get back home."

"I won't be long. Just a little while. Five minutes at max."

He stopped the car, but he still didn't understand the urgency. "Why do you have to visit the temple now, in the middle of the night?"

"Because, when we were stuck there, I prayed to God to help us out. Right before turning the ignition, I prayed. I dunno, feels as if it worked because of that."

He smiled, unlocked the car doors, but said nothing. "You want to come too?" she asked him.

"Sure, why not. Although, I'm still not sure. One incident like that can't change the way I think," he said, and took off his shoes before entering the Holy Land.

She smiled into the night, and welcomed the scent of the incense that was burning, waiting for her to pay a visit in the dead of that night.

~~~~~

I've been away from the blogging world for the last few days, which is why there's been this delay in the post. I'll still be away for a few more days, but I couldn't resist popping in and posting this one. I hope I can come back quickly though. Hope to see you guys soon.

***

Image Courtesy Snap-shooter!

Coffee House Silence

On a perfect March evening, when the wind was just right, he walked into that familiar café, hopeful. In the corner, the 'reason' for his visit sat quietly, propped against a wall as always. A book in one hand, and a coffee mug in the other, she seemed lost in her own little world. He sat down on the same table that he used to sit on, from which he could have a clear view of her. He wasn't too near, yet not too far away from her.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed that he had walked in. Somehow, it seemed that the wonderful weather seemed to follow him inside as he walked in, and cheered the aromatic surroundings a little bit more. She smiled quietly to herself for a nanosecond, and the world missed it.

He kept throwing glances at her, a bit afraid that she might notice him. At the same time, a part of him secretly wished that she would notice that fact, that he was shooting those glances at her. He kept thinking about the many days that he would wait for her to look up from the book that she always used to carry with her. He remembered the time that he played a game with her, where he kept guessing the color of her eyes – until the time that she looked up and he saw that he had been right all along.

She used to keep looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. Her eyes would follow him every time that he got up for a refill of coffee; every time he would come back to his seat after paying the bill and check if he had left anything at his seat. She would keep looking at him, until the very last moment, when his eyes would sweep the café one last time before he left. That's when her nerve would fail her, and she would avert her eyes.

This day was different though. This time, he wasn't the first one to decide to leave. He stayed on, till the time that she looked at him. He stayed on, till he had the nerve to look into her eyes. As luck would have it, she also looked up at the same time. That's how their eyes met.

"And that's how their story began," said the narrator, with a twinkle in his eyes.

~~~~~~

There was a purposeful difference in the style of this story, and that change was brought about to avoid the stereotype which I noticed was creeping up in my posts. Now I'm curious to find out what everyone thinks about it J

***

Image Courtesy hiromy

The Truth

This story has been inspired by a post written by Shruti. You can find the post here. I hope I've done justice to the situation here, and I hope that things turn out great for that family.

~~~~~

His mother looked into the mirror, and wondered how she would ever tell her son that he wasn't her flesh and blood, that he was adopted. She wondered how she would look into his eyes, and would admit the fact, that she hadn't carried him in her womb for nine months. She loved him, as anyone would love their own child. Still, a splinter in her mind caused her to wonder if that love was enough, if her love would be considered second hand.

She walked into his room, and saw that the little boy was getting ready to go somewhere. She couldn't ask where he was going. She somehow wanted him to stay, wished that he would say something to make the whole matter easier. Something like that silent hug of his, which always made things so much easy for her, without the need of even a single word.

He was having trouble with his shoes. Even at the age of 11, it amused her sometimes that he had trouble with mundane things like this, when he could solve complex math problems in seconds. Standing at the door to his room, she smiled while he tried the shoe on for the umpteenth time, without the slightest sign of impatience or frustration.

She knew she had to tell him something. She knew the time had come. She knew if she hid this from him any longer, there was a chance that he would hear about it from somewhere else. She knew that for him, it could prove to be disastrous. She told herself over and over again, that it was best if it was her who told him the truth.

She wondered how she would bring up the subject. She wondered if he would want to go out, as he was planning to, after he heard the truth a few moments later. Time was running out though, she had to find the right words any moment now; he almost had his shoes on.

He tied the laces, and stood up in front of her, a big smile spreading on his face. "I did it finally!" he said. "I'll be back soon, just going out with a few friends."

"Ashmit…" his mother began.

"Yes, Ma?"

Her courage failed her at the last moment, leaving her at a time she needed it the most. She couldn't look into his eyes,  and as she said to him "Don't be too late," she rushed off to the kitchen, lest he see the tears in her eyes.

***

Image Courtesy carf

That Damned Shortcut: Part 2

This post is the second chapter in the story of how a shortcut affected the peace of mind of five college kids. In case you haven't read the first part, Click Here. Cheers...

~~~~~

While Siddharth got busy making sure she was not hurt, Ira, Amit and Parul looked around to see what had caused her to faint.

Amit was the first one to notice what was a bobbing lantern coming at them through the banana trees. Scared to death, he merely pointed his finger towards it.

From among the banana trees, out came the bobbing lantern. It was held by the most ancient arm that anyone from that group had seen in all their lives. The five of them sat petrified in the car, while the figure moved slowly towards them. Although they couldn’t see the face, they could feel the unseen eyes of the black figure on them. A few feet away, the figure stopped, and they got a glimpse. It looked like a man, wrapped in a black blanket, a hood hiding his head from view. The lantern, swinging from his hand, cast deep shadows on whatever bit of face they could see of him. His face was wrinkled to the extent that it seemed pieces of it would be falling off. All this however was left unnoticed, once they spotted the moon shaped scar on his left cheek, and the two sunken circles where they knew the watchful eyes rested.

“Do all of you see a man there, who’s easily 200 years old?” whispered Amit into the silence. Ira shushed him without looking at him. Parul, who was trying to revive Minisha, left her on the floor of the car and sat petrified at the appearance of this man.

“We have to get out of here. Amit, start the damn car!” said Siddharth in the palpable silence.

“Sid, the car’s not starting. You think I’d be here if I could help it?” said Amit in the bravest voice he could summon.

“Be quiet you two, no need to attract attention,” whispered Ira.

“Ira, look around!  There’s no one else here, I think we’ve got all the attention possible,” said Amit.

“What if he wants to harm us?” asked Ira, a strangled whisper being all that she could come up with.

“Ghosts don’t want to hurt anyone, unless they’ve done the ghosts some harm. I read it somewhere,” Sid spoke from the backseat.

“Shut Up!” said Ira and Amit together, turning back at Siddharth, half angry, half scared witless.

They never thought that there would come a day when they would start believing in ghosts.

The man moved forward. Slowly, he came towards the car, the lantern still bobbing eerily in his hand. They waited with bated breath, wondering what would happen. He stopped right in front of Amit’s window, his cold breath fogging the window, even though the weather outside hadn’t been that cold. The man stood there for a full minute, then a long bony finger emerged from beneath the depths of the black blanket. He rapped the window thrice, and pointed back along the road. Again, he rapped the window, and again he pointed back the way they had come.

 The moon decided to show up for the night, and threw light upon the true terror that had spread in that little car. Amit turned the ignition, and this time there was a feeble lurch in the car, and a faint gurgling sound came from the engine. One more time the blanketed man rapped the window, and pointed.

“Come on, don’t give up on me now. I don’t wanna die here, not tonight, not in a stupid Banana Plantation!” Amit almost screamed at the car.

And voila! The engine suddenly throbbed to life. Sweet relief shone on Amit’s face, as he put the car in reverse to get out of there. The figure, seeing that they were fleeing the scene, followed them with outstretched arms.

“Get the hell outta here Amit! Pedal to the metal!” screamed Siddharth from the back seat.  The tyres screamed, but Amit relentlessly pushed the car to its limit, till the road from where they had started was visible again. They turned on to the busy street, stopped the car under one of the many burning streetlamps, the wonderful light washing over their white, scared faces.

“What. Was. That?” Asked Ira in the stunned silence.

“What the heck was that dark thing moving towards us in the darkness? Was I dreaming?” asked Minisha, having finally come back to her senses. Parul still couldn’t talk, while Amit had beads of sweat sticking to his head.

“Never again, am I going to take that sort of a shortcut. I’ve had enough of Ghosts for this lifetime!” vowed Amit, and they headed down the well lit road back home.

***

The man on the road finally removed the blanket that he had put on to scare the kids. He had a smile on his face, as he remembered how as kids, his gang of friends used to scare innocent travelers back at home.

“Felt good to do that after such a long time. I’ve still got it,” said the old man to himself, and walked back home, laughing as he thought about the scared faces of the poor kids.

~~~~~

This is a story that has been co-authored by Isha Chawla, and the first part of the story can be found on her blog... although I'm assuming that you came out here from her blog itself!

Mirror

"See that Blade there?"

"Yeah, that's dad's used blade. What about it?"

"I've always wondered something."

"The reason why the blade is so cool?"

"And so efficiently deadly."

"Yeah. If I had a choice to be an object, I'd be a blade."

"Me, more like anything metallic."

"Like a sword?"

"More like an arrowhead. It's somehow deadlier."

"That's just how you look at it."

"I can talk about the most random things on earth, can't I?"

"Oh yes!"

"Wanna hear something else that's random?"

"The real meaning of Random?"

"Yup. I finally figured it out. It's when there is an equal probability of every topic under the sun to be chosen for discussion."

"So random means that right now, there is an equal probability of me talking about dinosaurs as there is to talking about disco lights."

"Or schizophrenia."

"Yeah." A pregnant pause, and then the conversation continued. "You think the schizophrenia I had is cured?"

From the other side of the door, his mother banged on the door and said, "Dev, stop talking to yourself and come downstairs. Breakfast's getting cold."

~~~~~

Many thanks to Juhi for the Awesome Award, and Phoenix for the Honest Scrap award. I'm really grateful guys, you rock! Cheers to you…

***

Image Courtesy libraryman