Words on Demand

So my friend challenged me to a micro-fiction duel. Here's my what I got:

Suggested word: Rust

Facebook

The door creaked and he sneaked in. Inside, belying the musky smell of old age and overwhelming rust in the background, she uploaded a new radiant profile picture.

Suggested word: amazed

Author in Utopia

The clock did its work – it ticked. The pen did its work – it wrote.  The eyes did their work – they read.

The result did its work – it amazed.

 

Suggested word: inception

Open Endings

I fidgeted. I thought and thought again. I cursed. Finally, I knew how it ended. Then again, did I?

Exhausted, I yelled, “Fuck you Nolan! Fuck you Inception!”

Picked up a book and began following a new dream.

Suggested word: smoke

Amidst Samosas, Sweets and Settling

She let the butt drop, stubbed it. Smoke escaping through her nostrils, still, she got up. Fixing her pallu, said, " Beige, let's go give this guy his perfect bride." Beige followed, strutting like her, tail wagging. 

Suggested word: Lollipop

The Park

Dear X,

No I did not like the lollipop. I had a nightmare about it too.

Sincerely,

I am telling mom

 

 

Fight barriers (haiku)

Today all can happen
I live to see the snow melt you
I could not.

Thank you Thursday Poets Rally for the Perfect Poem Award.

I nominate Life between the lines for the next award.

Change

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton Season 2 edition 18; the eighteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Perched on a rooftop wall, I looked down to see the tiny aggressive bodies running with stones in their hands towards the uniformed lot. The multitude of stones hurled did not deter the latter, since by now it had become a usual day-to-day affair for them. They could just take out another tear gas shell and throw it at the protesters. This would stop the buggers , at least for a while. 

They run from various directions and charge. In the background there is the rising smoke and the ringing echoes from the smoke grenades and rubber bullets being shot almost habitually at the screaming students.

This is a scene I witnessed in the midst of the students' agitation which has been going on in order to attain separate statehood for a certain section of Andhra Pradesh in a University, which is a stone's throw away(literally) from mine. As the world rises(cf. the middle-east) against the old systems and prejudices and practices - never mind the futility of many such endeavours - one becomes increasingly aware of not only the hustlers but also the people who are supposedly uninvolved.

My eyes glued to the, almost dramatic, scene below see that on one half of the road, the protesting students and the RAF were after each other contentiously. On the other half which was just a divider away, there was normal traffic - lovers out on a romantic bike ride, parents fetching their children from the school, families going for a movie, a bridegroom on his way to his wedding in a glittering, decorated car etc, too busy living their lives to even bother to give the warring side of the road a glance. There was an occasional spark from a gun shot visible from amongst the trees. The wind also brought with it the evening azaan from the nearby mosque which went unnoticed by the crowd involved/captivated by the happenings. If one looked at the sky, there was the setting sun which brought the promise that yet another day of agitation would soon come to an end. 

picture credit: liveindia.tv

Everything is blue.

Everything is dead.

Everything is mixed up.

I see a bright door, yet i am painted black.

At this moment, looking intently at my goosebumped arms, lost in the humbling thoughts that filled my mind, I felt immensely insignificant with respect to the larger order of things in the world. Suddenly a witness to the collage of all human emotions and passions- politics, hatred, possessiveness, love, mundane every day life, anger, frustration, curiosity, religion and even love- I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by this strange yet entirely matter-of-fact event. 

Maybe I am supposed to take up some charge and shout more slogans; or put down the cellphone, log out of the social networking sites and start signing more petitions, maybe I am supposed to go out and join fellow protestors and pelt some stones. But I haven't heard my calling yet.Should I just act because it is the 'in' thing to do? Or simple wait for a time more suited. Should I take a moment to see, feel and interiorize whats happening all around or simply turn my eyes to something brighter and walk away? I am not sure. Maybe I am supposed to come out of the passive unconcern that has set in my disposition. But it does not seem the right time to wake up yet. I shall be irresponsible by not acting, as many have already acted irresponsible with the power of action in their hands. I shall simply dream of a change; of a less-complicated, less chaotic world. A change which the entire world is awaiting with anxious eyes and held breaths. Until then,

Everything is blue.

Everything is dead.

Everything is mixed up.

I see a bright door, yet i am painted black.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Absence of a father

There were times when Aryak felt he had chosen the wrong profession. 

All the glamour attached with the service was fine and the sense of pride that this made available not only to himself but his family and his country was something that always kept his spirits up.In spite of all the physical hardship and stress, it was moments like these that sometimes bring in the ever-so-little regret that he felt for not choosing a civilian life.

This had been a family tradition of sorts. Strangely, for three generations now the only son of the family would grow up to be a proud soldier- working, defending and living for the country. There was also one more thing. 'Your grandfather, like me, could not see his only child at birth. I hope things are different for you, son', his father had said, while rejoicing at the news of his son's upcoming parenthood. The first time his grandfather had seen his son was when the child was already 3 months old, only reading about it in letters. As for his father, things had been better, although he could only come back home after 8 months of the child's birth, he could hear his voice over the telephone. He could at least hear its breath and pure unadulterated laughter if not see the eyes which would, later , speak so much.

Aryak sat , seemingly quiet, with all these and more thoughts playing chaos in his head. It could be any moment now. He would be something more,much more than what he was right now- he would be a father. Then turning to his pc he answers the incoming call from the hospital. The image he sees leaves him speechless. It had been 'different' for him, like his father had hoped. He saw his daughter on the screen like she was there with him. All the distance vanished in a matter of seconds. All the regrets lost. All the emotions over powered him. It was at that moment he knew, life would never be the same for him again. 

p.s: this is a post for the 3G life blogger contest, powered by NTT DOCOMO. Kindly vote here if you liked it.