The Race

His heart thumping right into his mouth, he took a sharp turn out of the serpentine trail of slow-moving cars in the jam and turned into the dark alley on the left. He nervously kept looking back at the dark shadow following him and repeatedly muttered under his breath ‘Just a few more minutes please’.

Although it was past midnight, few of the houses continued to throw light onto the street. Glimpsing into his watch every few minutes, it appeared as though he was somehow trying to slow down the pace of time with this fruitless effort. The car suddenly screeched to a halt as he abruptly hit the brake when an injured puppy appeared in front of his car from nowhere. Mentally juggling with the idea of cursing the puppy or taking pity on it, he stepped out, lifted the puppy and quickly placed it inside his car to resume his journey.

Back at the bungalow, he searched fruitlessly for her in every nook and corner. Pacing across from room to room, he intermittently looked behind for the dark shadow but it was nowhere to be seen now. All he saw was the little puppy, limping slowly behind him.

Sweat trickling down his brow, he froze in his path for a moment, turned around and raced towards the terrace garden. ‘Honey, I got your medicines’, he shouted at her back but she made no move. As he approached her, he saw her lifeless body right besides the dried rose shrub she had once nurtured so lovingly – a painting of his smiling face clutched firmly to her bosom by her pulseless arm. The dark shadow had given him a few minutes but claimed her instead. The rose petals had lost out to the thorns this time.

The puppy slowly limped into his lap and put its head down to rest. A wounded leg, a wounded heart… united in pain. ‘You are my only companion’, he whispered to the puppy, gently kissing its forehead.

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This post (333 words) is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week 104. The prompt is to pen down 33-333 words using the third definition of the following word:

 

COMPANION (noun)
1:  one that accompanies another :  comrade, associate; also:  one that keeps company with another
2 obsolete :  rascal
3 a :  one that is closely connected with something similar
   b :  one employed to live with and serve another.

Watch out

Gods that bestow blessings abound.
I only ask dues for what's not sound.
So turn on your switch,
Give the bad a miss.
Escape me you cannot
It's your Karma, just watch out.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Ninety-three.

Buddhist cosmology tells of Trāyastriṃśa, or the Heaven of Thirty-Three gods, which rule over the human realm. The challenge this weekend is to write exactly 33 words about a god of your own devising that shares heaven with the other thirty-two gods.

Day or night?

They all sought her to solve their problems.

Strong-willed, optimistic, an epitome of courage!

At the corner of her bed,

a tear-stained pillow cover boo grudgingly at her.

She’d forgotten to wash it, yet again.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge – Week 101. The challenge is to write a 33-333 word piece that includes the word ‘Boo’ in its third definition as follows. 

boo

1 (interjection)

used to express contempt or disapproval or to startle or frighten

2 (noun)

a sound that people make to show they do not like or approve of someone or something

3 (verb) to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo” slowly

Soul-shattering

Perturbed by your numbing presence that drills a hole in my soul, a painful shriek emanates from the depths only to be lost in you, once again.

Oh Silence, please speak to me!

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This post is in response to the Trifextra Writing Challenge - Week Eighty-Five. The challenge is to write a 33-word piece using an 'apostrophe' - a figure of speech in which some absent or nonexistent person or thing is addressed as if present and capable of understanding.

Momentary Presence

(Photo Credit: [ changó ] / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND )

Who are these strangers that cast a shadow on my life? Momentarily present, they changed my life, departed too soon, but left behind an everlasting, indelible mark on the canvas of my fate.

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This post is in response to Trifecta Writing Challenge Week Seventy-Nine. The prompt is the photograph posted above.

Unspoken Notions

"Why don't you discard this plate? I've told you it's inauspicious to keep broken objects in the house."

"Maa it's just a crack in the plate, it's not broken. Besides, I don't want to ruin my entire cutlery set, courtesy of discarded pieces," she frowned, as she struggled to keep her tone low.

Letting go of an audible grunt, her mom stomped out of the kitchen muttering under her breath, utterly displeased at the stubborn genes that had got into her daughter.

As she fondly wiped the plate dry, her eyes moistened with memories of him. He would always insist on eating in this plate ever since he marred its beauty, much to her annoyance.

Suddenly one day, he was gone. No word, no phone call, no letter. She did everything under the sky to locate him, but destiny seemed to have different plans. Hope was lost on everyone else by now, especially since three long years had passed. She, however, could not let go of the last straw of hope, holding on to it, as one does for dear life.

Switching off the lights in the kitchen, she moved towards the pooja room to say her prayers for the day - prayers that often fell on deaf ears according to her. Abruptly, she made a halt in the passageway, as if struck by lightening. Turning back on her feet, she zipped into the kitchen and turned on the lights.

Lifting the plate from the drawer, she held it against her cheek feeling its deathly coldness, even as her tears kept streaming like water from a broken dam.

Crash!!

"What happened my child?" her mom frantically scurried into the kitchen, taking her into arms, as she stared at the shattered remnants of the plate on the floor.

"Nothing maa," she wiped her tears.

Inside of her, a faint voice whispered, "May be this will be auspicious. Just, may be..."

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Eighty-Six.

On writing

My process of writing, in little 3 words

Churn, erase, refurbish.

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This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Seventy-Six. The challenge is to pen down your writing process in just 3 words.