Why?

She could feel the black, the cracks and the pores on her skin through which the smoke was coming out. She could smell the fire that was engulfing her whole being, inch by inch, part by part. She could hear the laughter coming from the other room; the laughs were filling her soul and were coming out as her muffled screams. She closed her eyes as her whole life ran in front of her, from her loving childhood, to her marriage, to her monstrous husband and in-laws and a tear fell through her eye, just one tear drop as she spoke her last words.

“Mom, why did you send me back?”

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Hundredth

Her brows are sweaty and she is licking her lips. She looks nervous I can sense it. She moves her hand in her hair and then slowly brings it down to her neck and adjusts her necklace. I ogle at her long slender neck with defined bones. I can’t take my eyes from it. I am in love again. Yes she is it. She will be my hundredth. How can I not take her? How do I let her go?

 I was tempted to cross the road, grab her in my arms, touch her soft face, slowly caress her neck and then break it, twist it, choke her till she stops breathing. Just the thought of that neck slowly dying in my hand is giving me a high that no drugs have ever given me. I start crossing the road, whistling to myself. I still can’t believe my luck of finding her alone in this deserted lane.

Suddenly a car stops in front of her and she hops in it too quickly. Even before I could blink the car starts moving.

I thought of running after it but then stop and smile. This has become more fun now. It was far too easy like this. There is no bigger rush than the chase of the prey. I write down the number of the car in my mobile and whistle loudly again.

“I hope you enjoy your last night sweetheart. I know I will”

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Deceit

Hidden behind the wall I see a shadow of a man, a man I supposedly love. His hands are around her waist; almost embracing her whole body, caressing slowly, his mouth is hungrily feeding on her mouth with a hunger that I have never experienced with him. My husband of 6 years who once said he would die but touch any other woman, who rarely touched me anymore, is ravishing someone else and then suddenly they turn and I see her face. 

Tears roll down my cheeks and I yell in disbelief as I see my best friend, my life support in my husband’s arms. True to his word my husband has not touched any other woman; he is with "V", my friend, my best friend, my guy friend Vikas!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Image credit here

Her Dream Wedding?

Her hands are covered in henna

and her face is decorated with a shy smile

but her heart is disobeying her

She wants to be happy

She promised herself

It will be alright

It will be her fairytale night

Her wedding,

Like everyone said will be her re-birth

Her dreams

Like everyone said were just dirt

They why all of a sudden

She was unsure

They why all of a sudden

She didn’t feel happy anymore

Why after ages her heart was not with her

Then why all of a sudden 

everything was blur

She was asked to meet her taker

After he said yes

After she was informed

After it was officially announced to the world

But she couldn’t make herself go

May be she wanted to delay the future

May be she wanted it to remain a dreamy dream

Her refusal was appreciated

Her being coy was expected

She didn’t ask anything

No one told her anything

Not knowing is better

She thought to herself again and again

She survived the prying eyes of future relatives

She nodded at all right places as it was imperative

She cooked and she walked

She looked down and never talked

She did everything right

As right as the word right

As correct as the word correct

 

Then why all of  a sudden

She feels trapped

She feels choked

This is the eve of her fairytale wedding

Why even after people calling her outside

She couldn’t open the door

It was too late to do anything

Was it too late to do anything?

May be she can’t run away

If she goes out she will be forced into the marriage

But is there only one door to go out?

May be not

She closes her eyes and chooses the door

That will let her fly

That will let her be free

Forever!!

 This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out themes for creative writing each weekend for Indian bloggers

Image credit here

Pain

What is this sharp pain? Where is it coming from? I can’t bear it. Where am I? What is this loud sound? Who is singing this loud?

I opened his room’s door and saw Ansh singing out loud, with ear phones as usual plugged to his ears.

“Please stop! I will go deaf and with your superb voice I will lose all sense of rhythm and tunes very soon”. I said tearing off that thing from his ears. I detest touching it for even a second. What is with this generation and their love for weird things? It gives me creeps, looks like a live wire or a weird creepy crawly stuck to his ears.

“Maa please let me be. Why can’t I do what I want in my room? And you are my mom, you are not supposed to discourage my singing like this. Didn’t we see that program on discovery together? You can demotivate me from singing and music like this forever. You will scald me from music like this”

As soon as Ansh says it we both burst in laughter.

“Okay I will not scald you for life. Now will you please be a good boy and run to the Kirana shop and bring me some onions right now. No onions at home and Mr and Mrs Shrama are coming for dinner. Please do this first and then go back to your horrible yelling you call singing.”

“Maa one last song and then I will go promise” Ansh says and hugs me tight.

I feel a warm glow at my 18 year old son’s hug. Warm and fuzzy feeling...but what is this pain, this piercing pain. I can feel it starting from my heart and spreading all over. Wait, Why is Rohini running around?

“Rohini come here please” I yell at my 10 year old daughter. Stop running away and take your cough syrup now. You don’t want remain sick? Do you? Common!!”.

She looks at me and runs in Ansh’s room. As I begin pacing towards their room, I could hear deafening laughter, I peek and see Ansh trying to catch her. And finally she gives in and takes the syrup from Ansh’s hands.

Both of them together Ansh taking care of Rohini like a parent fills my heart and my eyes. A tear trickles down. Why am I crying? No, I can’t bear the pain. Please someone help me. Please. I want to yell and cry loudly but I am not able to. I can feel warm gush of tears flooding my face. Why am I crying? This is a party? Why am I crying at the party? This is my home.

Ansh comes in with a large cake and I don’t know how many candles? I am still surprised and can’t believe this was all a prank, a joke. I seriously thought they had forgotten my birthday. I sulked the whole day and missed Raman. I kept thinking of all my birthdays when he was alive and kept crying in my room, only to be surprised in the evening with this party. They didn’t forget, it was a prank. All this while they had one of the biggest bashes planned for me. I still can’t believe how many of my friends and family members are here. Yes turning fifty is indeed special.

“Happy Birthday to you Ma” Ansh and Rohini sing loudly and smash the cake on my face. Why is it hurting? They didn’t hurt me, it was a soft touch. Why is it hurting so much?

I am trying to cross the road. There is so much traffic on this road today. I am going to be late now. I should have left a little early; I knew how important today’s performance was for Ansh. This way I will stand on this side of the road the whole night. I throw caution out of the window and decide to cross the road. A lot of honking and a loud screech......And then there is pain and darkness.

I can’t feel anything else except this pain. This pain has taken over all of my senses. It has spread to my whole body. It is gut wrenching, it is tearing me apart. I feel like pieces of me are falling one by one. Now the pain is also leaving with my parts one by one...and gradually it is reducing. I am feeling light, weightless, almost like I could fly.

I am flying...I look down and see my lifeless body lying in a pool of blood on the road. I want to feel sad. I want to feel the remorse for leaving my kids alone but I am feeling light, feeling content. No pain, no remorse.. I am floating, moving towards the light and I feel myself dissolve...part by part..fraction by fraction. And then bliss!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Writer's note: This is a short story about a woman, who meets with an accident and as she is lying in pain on the road, her life flashes in front of her eyes. She relives some of the moments from her life before giving in.

I ran

 At the stroke of midnight

I ran,

I ran from you, from my pain, from my past

I ran from you, from my love, from my life

I ran from me, from hurts, from strive

I ran

From known

To unknown,

To future black and bleak

Without you crazy and weak

But for you,

I ran,

From you

 

I ran like a crazy man,

I ran with my legs and my soul

My legs running in all directions, away from you

My soul entwined with you but running away from you

I ran

Your love engulfed me

Your eyes overwhelmed me

Your bare soul made me weak

Your deep eyes made me weep

Your touch your look gave me spasm  

My heart still bleeding, couldn’t take your passion

Hence I ran

I ran from your love and my obsession 

My heart couldn’t believe the love you offered

I kept hurting you and saw you suffer

You felt trapped, I felt locked

My mind was numb and my senses shocked

I asked this question again and again

Am I fair to you?

Am I your Man?

And my mind gave me this answer again and again

No, you don’t deserve her

Will you be able to preserve her?

Will you look after the pieces of her heart?

Will you be able to restart?

You hardly manage to let go of the past,

You hardly manage to breathe on your own

How will you be her Man?

Will you ever be able to be a part of her plan?

Would you be able to give her the due?

Will you ever stand up and say I do?

I knew, I would never

And I ran!

I ran so you could see a better tomorrow

I ran so you could be out of my sorrow

I ran to give you wings

I ran to give you wins

I ran to let you fly

I ran in the night,

To let you see the day,

I ran so I could die,

Without you

I ran,

So you could live without me

(C) Juztamom 2013

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Image credit here

Lost and found

In your eyes

In your gaze

In your nights

In your days

I am lost and found

Hands in your hands

Each breath with your breath

Hooked to you

Look through you

In your touch

In your nudge

I am lost and found

Your words are my hunger

Your dreams my thirst

Your wonders are my wonders

Your arms my world

In your arms

In your dreams

In your wonders

And in your gleams

I am lost and found

Your journey my drive

Your life my life

Your music my jive

You win I survive

In your drives

In your Jives

In your loses

And in your strives

I am lost and found

I live with you

I die with you

I am alive in your life

I am dead in your deaths

I am as you as; you are

You are as me as; I am

We are lost and found in You and Me

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend- Use Opposites, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.