Tag Archives: fiction



Apart from my usual photography work,  I am currently working on a collection of very short stories that I hope to get published in near future. Recently, I seemed to have run out of ideas for any more such short narrations and that reminded me of my almost forgotten blog.

As I went through what I had written earlier, I saw a missing theme, a much needed central idea for me to come up with those 100 stories that I want in this book. I wanted to write it here before I forget it since this blog has been my special place.

“Our Shelves, Our Markets, Our Lives are filled with Disposable commodities.

Our choices are becoming smart, we even use smarter objects every day. Amidst all this fast paced, ever changing life, our dimensions of human connection or “Love” per se, has changed.

We are today a smart generation with disposable relations, with too many objects and too few emotions, both equally at display on a Facebook home page.”



Stuck on you!


Here is another story for Madison’s Friday Fictioneer group.

Feedback, constructive criticism, is most welcome.

My heart is restless and my limbs are stuck, stuck like a fool.

“Get out, before it gets you”

The voices in my head are getting louder and louder, but I still can’t move.

The more I struggle, more tangled I am left, with time, my life seems doomed.

There is no escape from this, I had it coming my way, falling for someone like you.

I am stuck in your lies, held down by own my anger and pain,

No matter, what I do, even after years, your thoughts are driving me insane.

I am so stuck, stuck on you!

A love story you haven’t read!


Let’s just say he was the man about town, whom nobody liked.

Reasons, you ask?

Could be many!

He was too smart for his own good!

Too darn cute!

Oh gosh, was he rich!

Or may be… he was none  of this!

Who cared! He was just a man about town, whom nobody gave a s**t.

Then there was me.

I am ordinary, if you must know,

Just another girl in town.

But I collected puppies.

Lost, helpless, homeless puppies.

I brought them home, washed and gave a bed,

Till they grew strong enough to bite the very hands that fed.

But does it ever stop me, no sir no!

So I had to be fixated on him, for he is one of them, a homeless, loveless puppy.

And after him I go!

He feels like a glass to me, I can see him through,

With all his ugliness, lies, wicked thoughts, somewhere buried deep some goodness too.

I can read his words, before he spells them for me,

We are now closer than we ever did.

Do you think its love,

Who am I to say,

For me he is another puppy, I wish to care.

Did I mention his lies, lies that flowed like stream,

He spits them out, even when, there is no need.

I tell him, you can be honest,

remember? I can read.

but why, why doesn’t he change.

How long will I last, with these deceiving  Games?

I repeat to myself,  I can handle this,

I have seen dogs before,

But looking at his puppy eyes, with drooling teeth,

I am not so sure.

I knew he was different,

But boy, was I wrong,

He wasn’t poor weak puppy,

He was a wolf,

Wolf, too strong.

He did not bite,

didn’t touch my caring hands.

He ate me alive,

Never leaving a single bone.




The beauty of the night matched your mysterious eyes as your voice with the divine grace!

You descended from the heavens above every year, I was told. I did not belong here and I had no faith. I was warned of your weak heart and strong ways, yet I couldn’t stay away. You led me to the abandoned creek with stone shed. The moon looked prettier that night than it ever did before, I was lost to you, without mistake. Fooled by your wicked heavenly words, I gave too much, steeping your seed with my mortal blood.

You got your heir and he became one of the GODs. What did I get, besides being stoned in your love abode?


This picture was taken en route to Prashara Lake, in Himachal Pardesh, India, which is an interesting and mysterious place itself. However as for the story above, It is inspired from two incidents that I have read about in the past. 

1. Story of Ahilya, who was deceived into adultery, by the king of heaven Indera, and was cursed to turn into a stone when was caught by her husband ‘Maharishi Gautama’.

2. It was an interesting case study of a psychological break down of a woman in Himachal Pradesh, who was suffering from the hallucinations. She experienced the process of being raped, conceiving a child, labor pain in the matter of few hours every few days.  She felt the child to grow up quickly and run away. She was studied for the cause and cure without much success, while locals believed it to be the play of a native GOD.

Himachal is considered to be the land of GODs and some of them are notorious and famous for often falling in love with the local women.

I almost missed this week’s Friday Fictioneer by few hours as I was trying to locate that case study over the internet  to share here with no luck, I had read it in a library few years ago. Any how, It would have been utter shame, to miss on an opportunity to write a story on my own picture.  

***Constructive Criticism, as always is welcome.

Eloped in the mist!


“I don’t think this is the place.”

“Why not?”

“Cause, I can’t see a thing!”

“But they said, they will meet us here!”

” I guess they lied, wouldn’t be our first one, you see”

“Or maybe we just lost the trail….”

“Could be, but I doubt we can go back still.”

“How can you be so calm? I think I ‘m going to die right here.. my heart is missing the beat”

“Well, it’s either this or like a lonely old bitch,  you can take your pick.”

“Ya, at least they will think, we finally got picked.

**This is story is written in response to 100 words short fiction writing event hosted by Madison Woods. The prompt can be found here…


Constructive criticism is welcome.

Friends for season!


First draft.

‘Agony aunt!’

” now, I wouldn’t put it like that!

I like to call it, more of, um, seasonal friends. ”

“Common, there is nothing fascinating about that, I just happen to attract people, um,  who seem to have a lot going on!”

“Na! I do not think my life is inspired by 27 dresses! besides, I was born first.”

“Why would you care any ways??

I am not a runner-up of a ‘Extreme make over’ or a ‘vampire chick’. ”

“Chick flick, eh! ”

“I suppose that could be done, I can recall a few chick flick moments still.”

“Hmm, lets see, well, I knew I was no different from any other 17-year-old, except that teen years had not yet decided to show up. I wasn’t decidedly ugly or shy or studious so to say, I was just, umm a kid. “

He was a Greek God to me, so gorgeous, so kind and his soft chuckles used to be highlights of my day while I was his best bud. I think that’s when it all started.  I was picked to be the side kick.

So low was my self-esteem that I was a shoulder in my own life, never daring to be the heart.

So best friend it was!

He was kind and funny, and would talk to me about every thing he felt. He had met this girl and he could never stop talking about her. Any how he was just first of many more seasonal friends to come. He was my best friend, for those few ‘summer’ months.

Then, came the next ‘fall’, and  I took my first full-time job, I know, how exciting, but It’s just, that it sucked!

I was too young to be friends with and too plain to be seen around.

Girls used to stop chattering when I came in the room, for they mostly talked about boys and I was a kid, still.

This is where I met the specimen number 2, I wouldn’t really call her a friend. She was too busy trying to look good and was too bothered to see me without any paint.

She got me my first lipper, but in exchange of helping her out.

I would have heard her out any ways, not that I was going to paint my lips black, no way!

We talked about her crush and some love triangle and months later, she attempted to kill her self.

Well, I was too young to dispense words of wisdom, but I knew movies and shopping could heal anything. so, I took her around the town, for next 2 months we had lots of fun, just trying to move on. Then I had to dump her butt when i found out it was all a stunt and she was back with the same guy again.

Yeh, you meet some of those too!

Third one was sort of serious like the cold of winters next year, for she was more than just my friend. I met her at my second job. She was 5 years elder to me and I could never take my eyes off her. Now don’t get me wrong, she was so elegant and proper, I so wanted to be like her, well, as soon as I grew up. for next few months I watched her in awe, as she taught me stuff about make up and cloths and you know, other chick stuff. In the meantime I remember, she used to talk about her secret love. I could hear her sing about, in her soft, beautiful voice in our office women’s room.

We lost touch, when I took my first real good job and moved out-of-town. But I thought of her all the time. 

Some time passed and I met more damsels in distress, while she lingered in my heart, like a beautiful smell. I really missed her, I remember wanting her approval, I wanted her to be around to see how much I was growing up to be someone wonderful like her.

In ‘Summers’, I heard her over the phone after a long time and she told me, that she really loved me and disconnected the phone. That was one crazy night, I did not know where she lived now, what had happened to her, but I knew something was wrong.

Two days later, I found out that she was serious in a hospital. Her secret love had failed her and she was broke and alone, I knew I loved her so much the instant I saw her again. For next few months we were inseparable, we went out, ate together, and did all sort of fun things. Any one who wanted to talk to her, had to go through me first. 

“Can we talk about it a little later, I have stuff to do.” I had to stop talking, feeling the pang of tears swelling up in my eye.

Why would Karen do this to me, she can be such a B%$!^!

She had told her creative cousin about my article on female friendship and now that jack ass was pestering me on the phone to know all the details to make a short film.

To be continued….



First thing I noticed, was the darkness of her hair. The contrast between her fair skin with dark hair was as stark as, day and night. Her deep equally dark eyes, were worth drowning in and her beautiful voice was better than any melody, I ever heard.

“I hope you are rested now!

I heard her speak, I couldn’t figure out the words, but I knew she cared.

She had brought me flowers again, and I was drowning in the sweet summer smell.

“Do you know, how much I love that church?”

She was reading the paper and exclaiming over something, and all I felt was her spell.

She had just left, but I was missing her so much already.

I had only seen her couple of times and yet without her, it felt like Hell.

She came every few days, always with the lilies!

How did she know how much I loved those white things!

She was back again today, with a bigger bunch of flowers.

Oh that black dress! It made her look so beautiful.

She was sad, I could tell. I felt her touch, like from a distance, she was talking to me again.

She was telling an awful story, about kids being sent away.

She told me about the 34 troops who never came back.

I didn’t understand , what was she talking about and then I felt something wet.

Her tears were falling in  slow motion, tearing my heart.

I wish, I could just… do something, to make her stop but she went on, crying and talking, stopping only to light a candle.

She told me the horrors she read somewhere, which sounded faintly familiar.

Her voice seemed fainting, and screams grew nearer.

First, I just felt the heat, but I did not want to open my eyes. I heard men shouting every where, thunder, like a really bad storm, only it was getting hotter and hotter. I needed to open my eyes, but, I just couldn’t move. I felt the stabbing pain… I wanted to scream.

Her voice was trailing away….

“Its been 70 years today, you were just 18!”

**Living in Europe has made the World War so real, that it is impossible to think of it as an event from distant past. Every weekend, I end up finding a church with, hidden human remains in the basement or graves left as monuments for the soldiers who died in the war. This past weekend, I crossed a road and was confronted with over 700 graves of young soldiers, who died between 1939 – 1945. What are you suppose to tell a young one who died, more than 70 years ago for no fault of his own? They were all at least, 10 years younger than I am! My youngest sister is that old and they were lost for what, I am still to be told! 



Today he asked me to move in!

Besides the stupid voice in my head, all was fine.

“You are moving way ahead of yourself, Hang in there, just a little bit.“,

Like I said, Stupid voice.

How could I not do it?

He needed me!

He had not been keeping well due to all the take outs and late nights. He wanted to root in now, have someone to take care of him, to belong.

It felt so right!

We have been together for little over a year, we were best of friends and loved each other very much (I did). Obviously, it was a good decision.

But I still couldn’t get the stupid voice out of my head.

It’s been over a month that we were together, life was finally good.  Working in the same team had its perks and since he was working really late these days, I thought of sticking around, to help him with the same. He was working on a particular case and client seemed to be more than a little dumb.

From that day on, he would tell me, how little brain that woman had and how she needed him to be on call every second hour.  She was part of our regular jokes and the calls were extended beyond normal working hours, till one night I caught him helping her more than he should.

Within days, he asked me to move out, because he was in love.

And now I knew, the joke was on me!



Friday Fiction | Life, You and Me!


Written for Friday Fictioneers!

“Why don’t you ever talk to me!”

“I am tired of pretending that you can hear, that you care and you do have a heart – beating just for me!”

“Gosh, I wish I didn’t love you so much!”

With that, that little thing burst into tears. Her tears froze with the north wind that eventually washed her away.

But the tears remained, digging deep into the stone, till, they finally reached the heart and broke it apart!

**Feedback is welcome!

Beacky and Ducky on a sunny day!


Photo Prompt for 100-word Flash #FridayFictioneers


“Its Betty’s egg!!”


‘Think it through, it can not be betty’s egg!’

‘Why not?’

‘Cuz, its blue!’

‘Well now, May be flapping on Ducky’s head was bit over the top, but his stupidity gets me to lose my head. It’s our usual sunny day and we both decided to swim out of the lake and take a walk.

Its finally summer time and food is plenty… but this blue thing flying so high is making me all nervous here…’ I have never been big on flying and I don’t even know, if any bird can be that blue and go so high!

Anyways, I will just lay low and enjoy the show!

Kwak! Kwak!