UBC Day 7 - Accident - 6

This story is continued from UBC Day 5 - Catching up - 5

------------------------

Deepti and Priya rushed to the Sadar Bazar government hospital. The world had dazed in front of Priya’s eyes.

The hospital was a mess. Crying, wailing men, women and children were everywhere. The reception counter was full of people with questions. There were journalists, camera and police.

Priya and Deepti searched for Mr. Khan who had called her to police station. “I found his phone and wallet in this bag. We want you to go and meet him at room number 125 on first floor.” Mr. Khan said handing over her dad’s belonging to Priya.

Priya let out a cry. Consoling her he said, “You should be relieved. He is still alive.”

In room number 125 there were doctors consulting over a serious matter. One of them looked up from the board and looked at Priya. “I am his daughter.” Priya replied.

“Ok. Well, he has some internal injuries and he has lost a leg but mainly his body is paralyzed due to shock. We have spoken to Trauma Centre at AIIMS. We will transfer him there in morning” Doctor gave a full account of her father’s health.

“Let him sleep now, you can come back in morning. Be here before eight.” A junior doctor continued.

Priya walked up to the bed. There lied her dad. Still under sedation, he slept as if nothing had happened. Doctors had cleaned his smaller wounds and had already operated on his leg which lay perfectly hidden under the sheet.

Once home Priya switched on the television. She sat there listening to the news and consoling her mother. In serial bomb blasts in Chandni Chowk, there were over 20 dead and more than 80 injured. Death toll could go up, it said.

It seemed so unfair, so rude. She called up Nitin. It must be early morning in Singapore, phone went unanswered.

Tired and deeply hurt, Priya put her mother to her bed and went to sleep. She had to be at the hospital in morning.

In her dream, everything was perfect. She was back in Singapore. Nitin and Priya were married. Her parents had come to visit them and she was lovingly taking them to Singapore flyer.

Shrill voice of her alarm woke her up out of her dream. She switched it off and stretched. Reality dawned upon her. She was home. Her father was at hospital. There was still no news from Nitin.

She sent a text to Nitin to call her back as soon as possible and got up to get ready.

                                           -------------------------------

How is this going to change Priya's life? Will everything will be normal for her once again? Stay tuned for more on Day 7.

UBC Day 5 - Catching up - 5

Continuing from Acquaintances - 4

------------------------

One and half year ago – “Where are you lost? And will you tell something more about your smile?” Deepti prompted, shaking Priya out of her trance.

Priya sighed. She had completely forgotten about Deepti. She politely denied.

But Deepti had now sensed something and she insisted. How could Priya deny her best friend?

She gave her a full account of her relationship. She told how she met Nitin at a party through a common friend. They were dating for about a year now and she had recently moved in with him. He was coming to India at the end of her twenty days breaks to speak to her parents.

“So will you permanently live in Singapore now?” Deepti sadly said, forgetting her own problems.

Priya solemnly nodded. Deepti continued, “But what about Sushant? I thought you guys had something? Why didn’t you tell me anything about Nitin?”

“Sushant is just a friend! Deepti. I am sorry dear but I didn’t tell anyone about it till I wasn’t sure.” Priya explained back.

Suddenly guilty, Priya changed the topic. She continued, “We are here to discuss Harsh and not my boyfriend. Will you please tell me more or shall I finish my mojito and call for check?”

“There is nothing much to discuss about Harsh. My aunt told my mother about him and she met his parents. She liked him and wants me to marry him. I have told her that I am not interested but she just doesn’t understand.” Deepti explained it all in one go.

“Why aren’t you interested Deepti? Is it Harsh or you are still stuck upon your ex?” Priya asked.

“Harsh is somewhat different. He has some ego it seems. I might be somewhat stuck but I am not discounting Harsh for nothing. I know how to put my past behind but Harsh just doesn’t seem the right choice.”

“Who does then?” Priya asked. “You haven’t met or gone out with anyone in last six months. Aunty was telling that Harsh is the third proposal. Deepti let me tell you, you might be just looking for excuse.” She continued.

“Let it be. I don’t want to talk about” Deepti said and got up.

They paid the bill and left. Somewhere on the way back, they agreed that it was a good evening and they should do it next week too.

They were just blocks away from their homes when Priya’s phone started ringing.

“Hello Dad! Yes. Yes. What? I will be right there…”Priya answered to the voice in the phone, tears rolling down her cheeks.”

------------------------

What happened? What was the reason behind Priya's tears? Want to know more about girls? Coming up on Day 6.

UBC Day 4 - Acquaintances - 4

This story is continued from Friendship beyond boundaries - 3

-------------------------



Two years ago - It was a usual Saturday morning. Priya had woken up later than usual. The night before, her office had thrown a party for someone’s accomplishments and she had had too many cocktails. Half past two she had managed to get in her bed and had slept like a log.

She stumbled out of her bed and went in search of her phone and a water bottle. She found latter first, next to her bed and then found her phone in her purse near her main door.

There were seven missed calls, two from the cleaning lady whom she called twice a month, one from her dad and four from an unknown number. Before she could respond to any, the phone rang again and this time it was the same unknown number.

“Hello!” she answered as she yawned.

“Hi Priya, this is Sushant this side.” The voice replied back leaving Priya to scan the hard disk of her brain and search for the keywords. However, no matches were found.

Realizing that she still didn’t know, the voice continued, “Your parents gave me your number. Our fathers are colleagues. Two days ago, I had gone to your house for dinner, there your mother told me that you have been living in Singapore for over an year and I could ask your help in order to find my accommodation.”

“Mmmm…” Priya tried to register all that he had just said. First, she needed to deal with her parents. “Oh God! These acquaintances, why do they shift if they can’t manage?” Priya thought to herself and found her temper rising.

Composing herself she asked him for some time to call back and proceeded to get a coffee for her throbbing head while she dialled her home and put it on speaker.

After 10 minutes of shouting and shouting back, Priya had finally reluctantly agreed to help this man. A cup of strong coffee and she had composed herself enough to call him back. On a quick call, she agreed to meet him over lunch and give him some leads.

Sushant turned out to be a better man than she expected. They had a long lunch and she was surprised at his mannerism and knowledge. Bought up at convent, graduated from a top college in the nation, Sushant had even managed to get a post-graduation from Yale. Working with an American bank, he had recently re-located from his last base, New Jersey. He was much older than she expected.

Next day she showed him around the town, and agreed to come with him to help him finalize and set a house. Three weeks later, they managed to move him into an apartment close to his office.

------------------

Does Sushant live up to Priya's renewed expectation? Get to know more of Priya's life on Day 5.

UBC Day 3 - Friendship beyond boundaries - 3

This story is continued from Exams, Work and Relationship.

-------------------------------

One and half year ago - Priya had come back for a holiday from Singapore. And as usual, as soon as she freshened up, she went to meet Deepti’s mother. It was then she learned of Deepti’s breakup, emotional withdrawal and proposal for Deepti’s marriage.

She realized with guilt that she was so caught up in her own problems that she never thought about Deepti ever since she had once told her about her relationship with her office colleague. She resolved to sit with her as soon as she could and catch up for the year when she had not seen her best friend. Of course she also had so much to tell on her account too...

That was the first Wednesday when Priya went out for drinks with Deepti. They had caught up on life, work, family and relationships.

On that evening Deepti gave her a full account of her brief affair, little time that she spent mourning, her results and her new marriage proposal from Harsh.

“So what’s the problem with this proposal?” Priya quipped while munching nachos. That is the best thing about best friends, no matter how much time; they bounce back to normality as soon as they meet.

“Problem is my dear, as you like to say it, that most often the hottest ones are jerks” Deepti said with a sigh.

Priya thought about her own life and thought how that saying had proven wrong. She fondly thought of someone who was waiting for her to finish her holidays and return back to the condo that they both shared.

----------------------------



Waiting for more stories and gossips from the girls? Coming up tomorrow...

5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!!

5, 4, 3, 2, 1… and I could no longer hear the crowd that was cheering. I wanted to believe that I was fine, but the sound of people wishing New Year to their loved ones was fading. I felt as if I was drowning. Slowly, slowly everything seemed distant.

I was alone, really alone. I was no longer excited. I was scared. I began to cry. I wanted to scream but no words came out. Instead came out a muffling sound. I finally heard an ambulance before I drifted off to a deep sleep.

                                                ----------------------------------------

It was New Year’s 2010. It was my first new years away from my family. I had managed to convince my parents and left for Goa with my buddies on 28th morning. Next four days were going to be the best holiday ever of my life.

Next two days were full of unlimited drinks, music and dance. Goa was amazing. Beaches, great weather, amazing crowd, larger than life parties, all that a small town guy like me had seen for the first time.

Finally it was the New Year’s Eve. We all wanted to do something bigger, something better, something different than the parties that we were attending for last two nights. My friend found out that the best party in entire Goa is at a private beach of a business tycoon, but the entry is strictly by invites.

Driven by the adrenaline rush, we vowed to gate crash. We dressed up well, and reached the venue. After twenty minutes my friend managed to get us an entry by convincing one of the bouncers.

Inside was a party that we had never ever imagined. Everything was on house. The “Who’s who” of the Bollywood and corporate world were there. Page three media representatives, photographers, skilled bartenders, five star caterers… think and they were there.

We were having a great time. It was 15 minutes left to New Year’s when someone offered us a smoke. I took a drag and realized it was not a cigarette. I thought of returning it back but yeah! It was New Years. My friends encouraged and tried a drag each. I smoked off rest of the joint in style.

Soon after that someone took me to a corner where several people were bent on a table. It was exciting. I was handed a roll and encouraged to bend down and inhale. As the DJ began the countdown 10, 9…. I bent down. 8, 7, 6… I inhaled and got up. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!!

                                                         -----------------------------

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

This post is written to highlight increasing availability and usage of party drugs. (Photo source - Google)

100 word fictions - coloured stories

When I saw her she was going red with heat and rage. Shouting in the support of labor union she stood with in front of a crowd of 1000 grey uniformed workers.

I feared the next step as they burnt down the blue flag of the company.

Being the head of white collar employees as I stepped in front of them, the crowd rushed ahead. I tried to duck behind my black SUV but one wave of her hand hushed the crowd.

I stood there mesmerized, for my daughter at such young age stood against her own father’s ill deeds.

************************************

He was blue with cold. Gritting his teeth, he knocked against the glass. In his hand was small pink doll. My daughter shrieked as soon as she saw it. She wanted it in no time. Looking at tears in her pretty green eyes I couldn’t say no to buy.

As soon as I stepped in front out, she shouted from behind, “dad, my doll has a red button”

“What is with you shouting all the time?” I turned while shouting back to look at her as she pressed the button.

A blast sound and everything turned into black smoke.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

---

Food for Soul

I had been desperate. Over three weeks in village and my book finished long ago. The remote villages had the highest rate of illiteracy in the country, thus let alone a book story, there wasn’t a stationary in about 8 km radius. Last week I spoke to my mother for hours. It is surprising that the mobile phone networks have reached where schools couldn’t.

Yesterday I rode to the post office to check for my office mails and parcels. There was one from my mother. It contained three hard bound books. I got my food for soul. Love you Mom.

****************

She had been working in my house for over a year. A little over 15, her main job was to hang around and take care of my niece. Each time I went home I saw her looking at me with her inquisitive eyes. I often wondered if they had some request.

Late one night, I was thirsty and I stepped into kitchen for water. The lights were on already, and there she was, sitting with an open book, reading out loud as she tried to pronounce each English word, slowly rocking as she read, feeding herself on food for soul.

The two short posts are written for 100 words on Saturday by Write Tribe and the prompt was "Food for Soul".

P.S. Have you dropped by at my ongoing project 30 days 30 books?

Midnight phone call

At the stroke of Midnight my phone rang. The voice on the phone sang, “Happy Birthday to you…” the voice was so sweet that I couldn’t bring myself to say that it was a wrong number.

It was only when I replied after her song got over she realized that she had got the wrong number.

She was the girl in my class who was wanted to wish birthday to her best friend and accidently dialed my number.

Love and Mystery

Love

She sat in corner, sobbing continuously for two hours without telling the reason, but when I tried to console her she shooed me away like she would shoo away snoopy when he would irritate her too much, “Shit!” it suddenly stuck me that snoopy was missing, today was the day they took him away.

Mystery

I had been trying to find my diary for hours without success and I was getting really worried when I saw that it had slipped off behind bookshelf, alas! Those two important pages were missing and I turned to see there she was, holding those two pages where I poured my feelings for her.

Above posts are attempt to write a 55 fiction in one sentence based on the guidelines provided at writetribe. I will highly appreciate the critical reviews.

Aaj kal paon zameen par...feeling loved

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. Ignited by the prompt, I here narrate a true account of a couple whom I know. It might be a bit dramatized but the situation and feelings are real. I would request your take on the situation and in my replies I’ll tell you the arguments that have been put forward.

Tring-Tring, the phone rang for the fifth time. It took all my will power once again to continue staring and not get up and answer. Finally it stopped.

Today is the third day I have managed to avoid him and his phone calls. Each day I sit with the phone in my hand at the usual time and stare at it while it rings till he gets exhausted.

Mr. Blackpaws, cat or catalyst (the story from my game...lets weave a story)

So the expirement "The Game" has come to an end. (You can read the post explaining the game here)

As promised, I have complied the story and tried to link up the lines to the blog of authors. Most worked, some didn't. However, I have linked up the profile if nothing else.

At few places (precisely two) I have added a few words and striked off a few, so that the flow could continue...

With this I must say, we have had a wonderful story come up. Hope you like it too. Thank you all for participating. (I feared that it might not turn out to be more than a paragraph)

With that I present to you - Mr. Blackpaws, cat or catalyst (can't think of another title, if you have anything in more suitable please let me know)

A game of Monopoly

I guess you have seen the game that we have been playing on my blog. We have all contributed a sentence each to write a story. The first sentence for this story was “Finally it had stopped raining and sun shined in Mumbai sky after days of gloominess.”

Tomorrow I’ll compile the sentences and publish the story that has come up after everyone's contribution. But before that, here is the original story that followed the sentence.

Finally it had stopped raining and sun shined in Mumbai sky after days of gloominess. I want to skip work and take Sara out for shopping.  It is her birthday next day and she had been patient enough for me to finish my case before I can take her out to buy her present.

American Dream - Love, life and seeking happiness - Chapter 5

All those words that Jane had formed in her mind had absolutely disappeared. Seeing Shaun along with Shagird had saddened her mood, but ever since he had left, she felt more distressed and wished that Shaun stayed.

They ate the dinner in silence. Even Shagird seemed to affected by her gloominess. However, as they sipped the Indian tea that Shagird made after dinner she prepared to talk.

“Shagird, I want to speak to you.” Her voice was weak and uncertain.

“I want to talk to you too.” came a short reply in an equally weak voice.

Let's weave a story...a bloggers game

Here is a game...

It might be a bit unusual for blog, but I guess we have all played it otherwise. We all will weave in a story.

Why do we do it? When we write a sentence, automatically our mind frames the second sentence. It will be interesting to see how others mind reacts to our sentence.

How we do it? Simple. I will start with a sentence. If you are the first person to stumble upon the post, leave a comment forming the next sentence.

The ones who come in later read till the last comment and comment for the next sentence. For each comment, I'll add a sentence too.

At the end of the week, I'll publish the story and link it up to all authors and contributors.

Hopefully we'll weave a beautiful story.

What do we get in the end? A beautiful story, and a post linking various contributors resulting in more traffic for each of us.

My sentence - "Finally it had stopped raining and sun shined in Mumbai sky after days of gloominess."


The game is over...read the story here

American Dream - Love, life and seeking happiness - Chapter 4

(This post is continuation from Chapter 3)

I have known Jane from the day she was admitted in the hospital. Shagird came and informed me about her and I addressed her ankle. However, post that I had no contacts between us till Shagird invited me to dinner at his place and she was there too. She was once again thankful, warm and welcoming and I felt an instant liking for her.

It was when I stopped in front of Shagird’s bookshelf; I got talking to her about her love for books and eventually about other things in life. We have been good friends since then. At times she would invite us to her place, at times I would just accompany Shagird.

Little time left

"The shadow of your smile..." He looked in her eyes. "What about it?" She enquired. "Nothing"

He suddenly remembered his promise to himself. He wouldn't tell her that he loved her, he wouldn't tell her that time that was left was very little.

She innocently asked him again "what about my smile?" This time he got agitated. "I told you nothing. Why don't you just ever understand?"

She fell silent. She wished he told her what he felt. She wished to hear those words. She wished that she could tell him that the time that was left was very little.

My first writing experience...

There are several moments in one's life when the eyes sparkle, blood rushes to cheeks and the lips curve into a smile which can be shy or embarrassed. Therefore when spoken about blushing, I can think of more than one such incident.

I am an easy target to blush out of self consciousness or embarrassment. I am not good with being centre of attraction.

It was the first time I tested my writing skills. I had written a story in continuation to a Shakespeare's play. I thought I was good, but I also thought that it might be crap. After all I was just a tenth grade student. I had done that out of boredom. It was on the last page of notebook which I used in that particular class.

In couple of days I forgot all about it and went on with my normal schedule.

The class went on just like usual. Somewhere in the middle of the class my teacher announced about the creative writing competition, she needed a representative from our class. The class fell into a silent hush.

All of a sudden I heard my name. It was my friend who nominated me. I was surprised.

The teacher was surprised too. As if to answer her doubts, she got up and handed her a piece of paper.

The teacher read the story out loud and the class listened to it attentively. As it ended, the class cheered and I blushed.

That was my first and the best story and the encouragement I got then built up my confidence forever.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

The perfect drive...

I have always been partial towards rains. No matter how stupid it might sound to many, rains for me romanticize everything around me. Therefore, when AmbiPur announced (you can check out more about them at http://www.facebook.com/AmbiPurIndia ) the contest for describing my idea of a perfect road trip I could remember the one in rain.

It was a November evening. It by no means is a rainy season. I was out for a dinner with someone I had met just a few weeks ago.

We got out after an early dinner to see clouds darkening the sky. We escaped desserts and got into his Honda City. He offered to drop me home and we drove towards my house. He switched on FM and tuned to a channel that played old bollywood melodies.

My house was just a short distance away and it was a pleasant ride. However, before we could reach my house it began to drizzle and then rain with full force. Rain in November is unexpected and as always it bought a smile and a song to my lips. The FM played one my favorite tunes of “abhi na jao chod ke, ki dil abhi bhara nahi” and I hummed along with it.

He stopped the car in front of my house and before I could break the song and say good bye, he asked me if I wanted to go for a drive and have a cup of tea somewhere.

Full of apprehensions yet excited about rain, tea and the person along with me, I agreed. We drove along the DND highway to Noida. The songs changed to more romantic tracks, the RJ had also shifted mood to rain and romance.

By the time we reached Sector 18 in Noida, the rain had once again reduced to drizzle. He got out and got us two cups of tea from a road side stall and increased the volume of FM.

As the song ended, the RJ voice boomed in the car – “and the next request is from a guy who wants to tell this girl…” At the same time, he opened my door and I found him kneeling with a rose and he finished the sentence, “…that he loves her”. The track that followed was “Jab Koi Baat Bigad Jae”

That was the first time I fell in love. That was the best drive I ever had.

My star...(55 fiction)

He was a star, You were my star.

He was lanky and tall,
You were short and stout.

He sang the song on stage,
You hummed along.

He was loved by all,
You were his shadow.

You were his manager,
I was your assistant.

He was your first crush
You were my first crush…

This post is written for the 55 Fictionist Contest, hosted by IndiBlosp

When it rained...

I flipped through the calendar again. It was still 12th of the month. All my money was gone. My wallet had just a coin and my savings account stated I had only five hundred rupees.

Last night, he asked me for money. His said that a friend needed help and as always I believed it. I know he doesn’t need that money for a friend, he will go buy alcohol. But he is my younger brother, when he asks for anything I cannot say no. He is the only family I have.