whatsapp story: the unfinished chat

Hey, you there?

Yes, what’s up? Two blue ticks.

This place is kind of creepy.

Wow! Do you have antique furniture and doors that squeak? Two blue ticks.

Dude, be serious. I can hear strange noises from the basement.

I think there’s a ghost. Have you checked? Two blue ticks.

Very funny.

Rofl. Imagine you’ll have a movie script by morning. Two blue ticks.

Go man. I am going down to get something to eat.

Knock knock! Two grey ticks.

Stop being angry now. Two grey ticks

Okay I am sorry. Two grey ticks

Hey, you there? Two grey ticks

umbrella with a wooden handle

Every kid in the colony wanted a raincoat, especially the ones with cartoon characters on them. But she wanted an umbrella – the large, nondescript, black umbrella with a wooden stick for a handle. Her parents tried convincing her but she couldn’t care less. The only thing she was concerned about was that it had to be large. Large enough.

For these adults would never understand but she knew that a raincoat can only protect one person from the rains. An umbrella can protect two. That and Ajay, who stayed in between her school and her home could afford neither.

Ever experienced a walk in the rain when one of your shoulders gets wet in the rain while the other brushes against the person sharing the umbrella with you!

the unsaid love

Unless you‘ve read him, you wouldn’t believe that he can write romance. Most days he stayed in his house, coming out only to pass the garbage to the sweeper. In fact, I’d have considered it mundane, had I not noticed that every-day the sweeper also passed him something back.

Curious, one day, I asked him,

“What do you get from the sweeper every-day?”

“Well, I’ve asked him to separate torn pieces of paper from the community garbage and give it to me.”

“And, what do you do with them?”

“I put them back together. In them I find my stories.”

There is more romance in hand-written torn pieces of paper than all the literature in the world put together 🙂

 

adult(ery) chat

Kunal’s phone beeped.

PrettyGirl: Long time. No see. What’s up?

Kunal confirmed Priya was in the bedroom and then reached for his phone.

CoolHunk86: In the Amazon rain forests. Studying the reptile eco system. You?

PrettyGirl: Paris. Home. In the bath tub. My clothes are far away. I wish someone fetched them for me. *wink*

CoolHunk86: I would never let you wear them. Send me a pic. *wink*

PrettyGirl: Haha. Some other day. Got to go now. Bye.

Priya called for dinner. Kunal quickly typed before throwing the phone away.

CoolHunk86: Me too. Bye.

Priya’s phone in the bedroom beeped.

And you thought virtual is the opposite of real. Well, they co-exist!

sam’s top 10

I have to write this down because if I don’t then I will not do justice to the absolute brilliance that Sam was. Most, including the best in the business of crime investigation (I know because I am one among them) would have never guessed that it was Sam who had troubled them for the last 10 years, once every year, had he not given it out himself in an innocuous Facebook post, just like that, one Sunday afternoon.

This is what the post read:

Here are my top 10 books of all times:

1. The A.B.C Murders
2. The Body in the Library
3. Murder in Mesopotamia
4. Sleeping Murder
5. Murder on the Orient Express
6. A Murder is Announced
7. Death on the Nile
8. The Murder at the Vicarage
9. Mrs. McGinty’s Death
10. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd

Sam was my friend. We had a deal. The day they figured out what’s going on, I had to pull the plug. I owed him his last book.

 

For starters, read Agatha Christie. If you still did not get it, read The Murder of Roger Ackroyd once again.

 

of expressions and freedom

As a field reporter, he was there to cover the Independence Day celebrations when he saw her. She stood in a corner near the main stage, with a smirk on her face and a sign-board that read – INDEPENDENCE DAY, REALLY?

He pulled his camera out and took a quick snap of her. Even before he could take another, she was whisked away by a group of policemen. Apparently it was not allowed to protest on that street on the Independence Day. He thought the irony would make a powerful story and submitted the photograph to the newspaper.

To his amazement, it got printed the next day on the cover page. The comma and the question-mark had been carefully removed.

There is no greater expression than the expression of freedom. There is no greater freedom than the freedom of expression.

the planned accident

As he skied down, his whole life flashed in front of his eyes. The early rise to stardom, the thrill of knowing that no one is better than you, the speculations in the media before every race and the convincing wins that silenced them, the fans. All of this for a decade. And then, the sudden realization one day that all of this would be gone and in that order. Given the peaks in his life, it will only be downhill from now.

He threw the ski poles and brought his ski bindings parallel to one another. When you are going downhill, this is how you gather speed. He closed his eyes as he drew close to the boulder that stood in his way.

Half a year later, he opened his eyes in the hospital. The world celebrated how he had fought his way back to life!

Before you think otherwise, I am a big fan of Michael Schumacher myself. However, the story-teller in me could not help noticing a possible alternate interpretation.

one death at a time

It took six hours for the doctor to discharge her. When she finally came out of the ICU, she found him sitting where she had left him. She knew at his age it was not easy to put up with her medical condition. But he never complained. As soon as he saw her, he heaved a sigh of relief. A quick hug later he went to meet the doctor.

“I am sorry. We still do not know.”

“But doctor, this is the third time it has happened. We ought to know something by now.”

“We have conducted every possible study. There is nothing in the reports.”

“I need a blunt answer doctor. How much time does she have? If something were to happen to her, I cannot forgive myself.”

The doctor hesitated for a while. “I am not sure how much time she has. I only know that both you and I are doing everything in our capacity.”

“That sounded like a testimony in front of a jury.” He chuckled as he stood up to leave.

“Well, all I know is that’s the truth.”

As he left the doctor’s cabin, he found her waiting for him near the elevator. As he walked towards her, he seemed deeply puzzled.

The poison dose has to go up. The question was by how much.

The perfect poison is one which kills without leaving a trace!  

the knight in the shining armor

The commander stood amidst the ruins of his conquest, taking stock of the men he had lost and the spoils of the war that he had amassed. His army stood in silence as he congratulated them on their victory and promised them a night that was worth the fight.

As he was leaving, he spotted a rather known face in the army.

“So how many men did you kill today?” the commander asked with a smirk.

He stood in silence. They laughed.

“No women, no wine for you boy till you make a kill. In fact, wear a few bangles. Just in case some of my men were bored of women and wanted a change.”

They cheered.

That night as the commander’s brave men rejoiced in the spoils of the war, the coward made his way through the deserted ruins to a plundered house. He opened the trap door and looked at the kids hidden under the floor.

“I knew you were here. How long did you think you could avoid detection? Get out you scoundrels and run for your life.”

Unsure of his intention, the last kid to come out of the hiding, plunged the hidden dagger into him.

The armor broke the fall. The metal shone under the moon-light. He realized it would be morning by the time he bled to death. Worse was the realization that no one ever would miss the coward!

the burden of truth

I spotted them as they entered the station. The way they were engrossed in each other, it did not require a genius to tell they were in love. Years of experience also told me that it meant they were an easy target. I made my move.

There are two rules in my business. The first is to get the timing right. I waited for the train to sound the first whistle. As he stood on the platform waving at her in the train, I quickly finished my act.

The second is to cut the link that can be traced back to you. I took the cash out and threw the wallet.

That night as I counted my exploit, I noticed a small note tucked among the currency. On most days, I would not bother. Today being an exceptionally good one, I allowed myself the luxury of peeping into their private life. The note read:

“By the time you read this, I will be gone. This might sound stupid but I think I like you. I am not sure about your feelings though. If you think we have a chance, call me. Else, it is fine. You will always be a pleasant memory.”