Category: Flash Fiction

Karma Strikes

Words 101

“This is preposterous!” Subhadra’s thick gold earrings quivered in agitation.

She who had just yesterday blown up lakhs of rupees on shopping in Dubai had no cash to buy vegetables?

She, who always said, keep the change had no change?

The answer to her prayers was the temple.

Filling her bag with offerings, she called for the BMW.

Pushing through the crowds, she entered the temple premises.

She frowned.

Odd.

The cue to the sanctum sanctorum was miniscule.

Why was everyone gathered on the other side?

Had they all come for what she had – beg for change from the beggars?

***

A/N: For those who missed it – In India, late in the evening on 8th November, Prime Minister Modi announced demonetization of Rs 1000 and Rs 500 currency notes with effect from midnight of 9th November, banks/ATMs to remain shut on 9th. New notes (in restricted amounts) to be available from 10th November onwards. This is being done with an aim to curb corruption, black money and terror funding.

Written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Sandra for the photo. Write and read more stories on this prompt here.

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 99 and Calvin and Hobbes

 

Ground Rules

Words 200

 “Grandpa, how did you get that scar on your chin?”

Grandpa rubbed his chin. “Ah! I am rather proud of this one. I once chased a chain-snatcher. I lunged for him and fell on my chin. I grabbed his ankle and held on until the others came.”

“Wow!”

Grandpa looked pleased.

“And the one on your forehead?”

He caressed it. “This is both my badge of shame and pride.”

“Interesting!”

“Once Mother lost her gold ring. She accused Leena of stealing it.”

“What did Granny say?”

“Leena denied it. But nobody believed her.”

“Not even you Grandpa?”

“We were newly married. I hardly knew her.”

“Then what happened?”

“There was a slanging match. Accusations flew thick and fast. Leena was rude to my mother. As her husband, it was my duty to teach her a lesson. I slapped her.”

“No!”

“Your Granny instantly retaliated by hitting me with a saucepan.”

Shocked, I could only stare.

“Blood dripped from my wound but all I felt was a sense of vindication and pride. I looked at my parents. I hated that Father hit Mother. But what I hated more was that she didn’t hit back.”

“Did you ever hit Granny again?”

“Never.”

***

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. For more stories, on this prompt, click here

Thanks for reading – do let me know you were here 🙂

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 96 and Calvin and Dad

 

Nowhere

Words 200

My dearest Son, it is strange writing to you. Since the telephone, I lost the habit. But when you first went abroad, I would write long letters; so would you.

When Lata got a phone connection I was happier than she. Hearing you say Mother after months gave me as much joy as it did the first time. After we got our own phone, I would sit for hours beside it, willing it to ring. And then came the Skype calls, where I could hear and see you. But the best was of course when you came home, sat beside me, relishing and demanding hot crispy parathas.

But then your workload increased. Your father left us. You (and even I) thought I would be happier here. But everything is so strange and different here. And you are always so busy. Looking out from the top floor, I feel like Trishanku – neither here nor there.

I wouldn’t have bothered you, but Lata’s nephew is going home. Maybe I could accompany him?

Waiting for your letter although it would be nice to hear your voice.

Perhaps even see you.

My room is down the corridor, last room on the right.

***

A/N: Trishanku is a character from Hindu mythology.  Trishanku has come to denote a middle ground or limbo between one’s goals or desires and one’s current state or possessions. In brief, the story goes like this – Trishanku wished to ascend the heavens in his mortal body. One sage (who was keen to show off his powers) agreed to help him and would have succeeded but for the intervention of the heavenly gods who convinced him to desist breaking laws of nature. But to keep his word, the sage created an alternate heaven where Trishanku hangs upside down so that he may not ever usurp the power of the real king of the heaven Indradev. Thus Trishanku who is suspended in his own heaven as a compromise between earth that he belonged to and the heaven that he sought. Trishanku corresponds to the constellation of Crux or the Southern Cross. For a more detailed version of the story click here.

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. For other stories on this prompt click here

I wonder if the parallel between the mother and Trishanku is clear? Do let me know. Thanks!

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 95 and Calvin and Hobbes

 

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting this marvelous challenge and Claire Fuller for the photo prompt. Click here for more stories on this prompt.

A Wannabe

Words 99

Brilliant, scintillating displays, thronging galleries and witty banter captivated her.

Bewitched and compelled, she fashioned a shelf and put up a messy yarn.

Few spared her bare shelves more than a cursory glance.

Hesitant and unsure, she scrabbled around for tips and tricks.

Sticks and stones found a place on her shelf, as did knick-knacks and baubles.

Pleased, she admired her fast filling shelves. Until her eye fell on the glittering galaxies.

She heaved a despondent sigh. She was a square peg, maybe she should…

Wait!

It has been just a year with the fulfillment of a lifetime.

***

Thank you for your company, support and encouragement on this super-fantastic journey. Today I complete 365 days of blogging  🙂

Food for thought

 Words 201

“Son, write an application…”

“For what?”

“There is an opening for a typist…”

“I don’t want to be a typist!”

“Son, it’s a Government post.”

“I don’t care. I want to…”

“You don’t understand! A Government job is permanent. It also means full benefits, medical insurance…”

“But there is no scope of growth.”

“That’s not true! Look at me. I joined as a peon and now I am head clerk.”

“What about job satisfaction? I will die of boredom.”

“Forget that! If you get this job, you will never have to worry about putting food on the table.”

“But I want more! I want to make a difference. I want a car, a house and a bank balance.”

“Aren’t you being overambitious?”

“No Father. With my own startup…”

“Startup! That’s a very risky proposition. What if it fails?”

“Father, didn’t you take a risk when you left the village? You had no money, skills or qualifications. You didn’t even know Hindi or English. Did Grandfather stop you from taking the risk?”

“I had no choice! We had no food to eat. It was a matter of life and death.”

“And for me, this job would be a living death.”

***

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less based on the photo prompt given above. For more stories on this prompt click here

Thanks for dropping by  – how about a little note? 😀

The Visitation

Words 175

 “Ready Mala?” Rahul called. “Ma’s online.”

Mala applied sindoor, pasted a bindi and decorously draped a scarf over her head.

“Namaste Mother.” She folded her hands and greeted her mother-in-law from halfway across the world.

“Sacrilege! Your arms are bare!”

“The bangles make such a racket in the library…”

“Is the auspicious tinkle of bangles a racket? If the tinkle is silenced…” She choked.

“Ma!” Rahul butted in. “Let me show you our apartment.” Mala nudged him. “We just shifted, so it’s a bit messy.”

“Is that the kitchen? Where are the spices, pulses? All I can see are sauce bottles…alcohol?”

“That’s wine.”

“Alcohol. This is why I was against you going abroad.”

“Look Ma, canned beans. Ready to eat, no need to cook…”

“What! No cooking? No wonder you are all skin and bones.”

“I am fine Ma.”

“Forget bangles, she can’t cook for you or control your drinking. How will she bring up her children? Look after us?”

“Ma please…”

“Book my tickets. I will teach her how to run a home.”

***

Written for PJ’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (a story in 100 -175 words) on the photo prompt provided by Maria of Doodles and Scribbles. Thanks Maria for the photo and PJ for hosting (and welcome back!).

A/N For those who are not familiar, in India, sindoor or vermilion is applied on the parting of the hair by married women. They are also expected to adorn themselves with other symbols of their wedded status (bindi – usually a red dot at the center of the forehead and bangles, toe rings etc). Unmarried girls may wear the bindi and bangles but not the sindoor. Traditionally, widows were expected to wear only white and shun all jewelry and color. Things are changing rapidly and today it is common to see widows wearing colored dresses and/or jewelry, yet attitudes and mindsets need a major overhauling.

And an announcement!

It’s Story Club time. This month, the story club is being hosted by Ramya and the story this month is “In a Grove” by Ryunosuke Akutagawa. Ramya will be posting her views and analysis of the short story on Monday, 17th October 2016. Do read the story (link given above) and drop in for a read here and there. But even better, post your own views and link it to the Story Club #4 post (to be posted on Monday) so that we can all head over for a read. Comments and views in the Reply box are also welcome. Anyone interested in hosting the next story club -please raise your hand 😀 If you wish to know how the Story Club works, click here or you can email me at mysilverstreaks@gmail.com.

Thank you for visiting – have a grand weekend 🙂

 

The Misfit Miss

 Words 201

“Trupti is such a tomboy.”

“Ouch! Don’t pull my cheeks.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I want to be a horse rider.”

“She is joking. She wants to be a teacher. Right Trupti? Sit properly.”

“Yes Mother.”

“You are late. Where were you?”

“Playing cricket.”

“Hoyden! What will people say?”

“Why should I care about people?”

“When you live in a society, you have to care about people. Especially girls.”

“Then I don’t want to be a girl.”

“Can I go and see the late night show with my friends?”

“No.”

“Why not? Sameer goes. And he is 4 years younger.”

“Don’t argue.”

“Why not?”

“Good girls don’t argue.”

“I don’t want to be a good girl.”

“Mind your tongue. Your husband will thrash you.”

“If he does, then I will thrash him too.”

“Oh God, please give this girl some sense.”

“I have a lot of sense. It’s other people who talk nonsense.”

“Such arrogance is not seemly for a girl.”

“Why not?”

“How will you adjust with your in-laws?”

“Why can’t they adjust?”

“Girls are expected to adjust.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Why can’t you be like everyone else?”

“But that would be so boring.”

 ***

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less based on the photo prompt. For more stories on this prompt click here

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 92 and poor Calvin :D

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