Enough of Double Standards

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Photo (c) Bjorn Rudberg

 

Enough of Double Standards

Words 100

“Belated happy birthday!” Shipra greeted Deeksha.

“Thanks.”

“How did you celebrate?”

“We didn’t. We are still in mourning.”

“Oh I am sorry.” Shipra offered her condolences. “Last year too you couldn’t celebrate as your father-in-law was unwell.”

“Yes.”

“It must be over six months since he passed away?”

“Yes.”

“Yet your husband attended his cousin’s wedding last week?”

“It wouldn’t have looked nice if he hadn’t gone.”

“So only you’re expected to mourn?”

“That depends.” Deeksha said. “As I am integral part of their family, they made sure I participated actively in the wedding festivities soon after my father’s death.”

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Bjorn for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

SPF: Blast From the Past

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Blast from the Past

Words 199

“Aren’t you too young to be a face-reader?” Madhulika looked her up and down.

“It’s a gift.” Tuhina said.

“But to give you a booth at the event, I’ll need some proof of your talent.”

I know what you did Muddy.”

Madhulika gasped. “Wha…what do you mean?”

Don’t you remember your friend, Muddy?” Tuhina shook her hair free and leaned forward.

There was a crash. “Vrinda’s dead and you…you…”

“…I possessed Tuhina,” the voice was cold and unemotional, “and set out to avenge myself.”

“It wasn’t me, I swear it wasn’t!” Madhulika edged towards the door.

A hollow laugh echoed. “Still lying Muddy?”

“It was Shail. It was his idea to kill you…”

And my unborn child.”

“Child!” Madhulika was stuttering. “I…I don’t know…”

Shail knew. And if he knew…”

“Don’t kill me please!” Madhulika begged.

I wouldn’t do anything so passé Muddy.” She bared her teeth. “I’ll just have some fun.”

“Fun?” Madhulika quavered.

Shail has a new girlfriend. They are plotting a murder.”

“Vrinda!

But she was gone.

.

.

“What have you been up to?”

“Nothing.” Tuhina grinned at her mother. “Just settling some old scores.” She fingered the scar on Vrinda’s neck like she had since childhood.

***

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction  – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for the photo prompt and hosting the challenge. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt, click here.

The Song Within

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Photo (c) Marie Gail Stratford

The Song Within

Words 100

She was late. All because of the cook. And so inconsiderate of him to take the car.

The signal turned green and the surging crowd spilled on to the road.

It was just February and already so hot.

Oww her shoes hurt.

Not as much as her piercing barbed comments.

Cursing, she hurried ahead of the riff-raff.

A melodious voice rose above the traffic din. “aaaa~aaaa am the one of happy colors.”

The next winner of Voice India!

She slowed down.

A garish electric blue sweater wearing strange mismatched socks limped past her.

Wait.

Not socks but a prosthetic leg.

***

*Main hoon khush rang Heena – a Hindi movie song.

Written for the Friday Fictioneer – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Marie Gail Stratford for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Thanks for reading and for sharing your thoughts.

 

Of Moms and Sons

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Photo (c) Dale Rogerson

Of Moms and Sons

Words 98

Do I have passport photos?

Ma

Maaaaaaa!!!!!

Yes. Did you have lunch?

Where are they?

In your wallet. Lunch?

Checked. Not there.

Check again. Did you wish Dadu?

They’re not there Ma.

They’re behind the pocket for coins.

I used those up last time.

There are 4 more. How many do you need?

Two. But they aren’t there.

How will you find them if you are busy texting me?

Did you have lunch?

Don’t forget to call Dadu

Did you find them?

Found them.

It’s freezing today.

Dress warmly.

Zip up your jacket.

Eat something.

Are you listening?

 

***

A/N I tried a new style today, do let me know if it worked. Thanks!

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Dale for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

One Step at a Time

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Photo (c) Marie Gall Stratford

One Step at a Time

 Words 100

Top floor! She panicked. Never in a thousand years would she manage to reach her goal.

She spied a signage and sighed in relief. Ah the lift!

She hurried to join the tail end of a long winding queue.

The queue behind grew longer and yet she didn’t move an inch.

Restless and impatient, she chaffed at the wait.

“Want to jump queue?” A voice whispered temptingly.

“How? I am new with no resources.”

“Fresh and resource full.” He leered lasciviously.

No time and miles to go.

Decision made she stepped out of the queue and headed for the stairs.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Marie Gall Stratford for the photo prompt. To read the other stories or participate click here.

 

One Fine Evening

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Photo (c) Roger Bultot

One Fine Evening

Words 97

What a beautiful evening an exhilarated Suresh thought as he left the office. Just the kind Meera went gaga over.

He couldn’t wait to go home and share the good news. He would hold her in his arms and apologize for his cruel words. He couldn’t take them back but he would make it up to her.

A romantic dinner at the swanky houseboat restaurant.

And a movie.

Her choice.

Oh how her eyes would sparkle!

He willed the traffic to move faster.

“Meera!” He entered the darkened bedroom.

How odd.

Meera’s feet dangled at eye level.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Roger Bultot for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this photo click here.

Whew! I almost missed the party 😀

WPS: Before, When There was Nothing

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Image from Google Maps

Before, When There was Nothing

Words 152

  “Mother!” Shvetaketu was aghast. “What are you doing with him?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Her face was still flushed with passion.

“Mother, whose son am I?”

“Mine.” She straightened and smiled at him affectionately.

“I demand you tell me.” He roared.

“Hush! It’s a free world. I can do what I like, with whom I like.”

“I shall rewrite the marriage laws.” Shvetaketu declared. “From now on you can go to other men only with your husband’s permission.”

“You will still not know whose son you are.” She twinkled.

“But of course your husband’s. He owns you like his fields and any crop that comes out of you is his.”

“I am not a field!”

“So be it. From now on you will be allowed only four husbands, the Moon, Gandharva Vishvavasu, Agnideva and finally your husband.”

Is that why when husbands no longer want their wives she is passed on to fire?

***

A/N: In Hindu mythology, Gandharva Vishvavasu is a celestial being skilled in the art of music and Agnideva is the god of Fire. This piece is inspired by Devdutt Patnaik’s book 7 Secrets of the Goddess, which describes the origin of this Vedic wedding ritual. Until now I wasn’t aware that I have four husbands. Did any of you (wedded according to Vedic customs) know it?

Written for What Pegman Saw – a story in 150 words or less.  Thanks to J Hardy Carroll for hosting the challenge and Google Maps for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Thank you for reading. I dithered quite a bit over the title – could you help me? Do you think it would have been better if I had titled it The Evolution of Civilization?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Evolution of Civilization