brooding over chai

Alo sat deep in thought. Would it be red and green or yellow and blue? Which colours would go well with the theme? It was a tough choice for her. Off late, she hasn’t been able to give a shape to her thoughts. The colours have been failing her. Her indecisiveness and her inability to paint has plunged her into depression. Maybe a walk outdoors would do her good. But the chilly drizzle since the last few days has made it difficult for her to venture out. The mud and the slime made the path slippery and risky. A wrong step and it might send her tumbling down the slopes. ~~~~ Alo’s mother found her fast asleep beside the window. On her face was a myriad colours. Tiny yellow circles highlighted her cheeks and her nose, red patches on her forehead, streaks of green on her chin and variants of blue on her rosy cheeks. She was a colourful sight. Her mother parted her hair with great tenderness. She did not want to wake her up. The night before, had been a troubled one. The little gi

Priya was very late. She had missed the last train and was hurrying home. She took a note of the deserted roads. No rickshaws in the stand, which meant she had to walk home. Thinking of her ailing mother, she took the short cut. That's when she heard the footsteps. The men! They were drawing closer. The temple was her last refuge. Falling at the feet of the Goddess she prayed for mercy.The men had, by then, surrounded her. Suddenly,the lights went off. As the lightning struck, the men saw a form taking shape. It was the very woman, roaring like a lioness and in her hand gleamed the Sword of Devi Maa.

The tantrik sat in front of the fire,churning a big bowl of blood and horse piss, occasionally mixing what looked like strands of hair. She turned around and extended her hands to Reema. Her bloodshot eyes, the red tilak on her forehead and the red attire stunned the latter. In her hands was a small packet. 'Go and put this under your husband's pillow, the problem will be solved,' is what she instructed her. Trembling, she took it and did exactly as told. A day later, Reema's husband came home, frightened and exhausted. 'Mysterious death of woman flung out from moving car. Driver survives miraculously', read the headlines next morning.

Anil sat on the speeding local train and looked out, thinking of all that he had left behind. He came from the family of honey collectors.They have been known to ignore the dangers and risks in a jungle and gather honey.By the grace of the BonBibi(forest goddess),they had never known poverty. But the Goddess failed to protect them one night. His father was untraceable.The search party found the half-eaten body next morning.Anil's mother joined the long list of 'tigerwidows'. The teenager grew up overnight.From a honey gatherer he became a daily wage earner. Fate had dealt him a cruel blow.

Rajkumar and Raghavendra sat playing Shatranj in the big field.Their friends sat around them,forming an arena.  Raghavendra won the game.He was declared the winner for the third consecutive year. As they got ready to leave,they heard someone saying,'Give me a chance!'That was Baloo.  'How dare you challenge a Thakur?'shouted the group in unison. Waving a hand to quieten them, Raghavendra beckoned Baloo to join him. The game started. After some clever moves, Baloo defeated him. As the boys stood in silence,anticipating the furor, Raghavendra stood up and embraced Baloo. A new record was set in the village, that day.

# 100wordstory # pictureprompt I am going home after eight years. The phone had rung early morning.'Ma very sick,come home,' informed me the voice. I had to go despite all that had happened.Despite the fact that she had always favored my brother, I had to go.I had to go back one more time to bid her adieu, despite the fact that she protected him even when he slept with my fiancee. I get down from the train.My sibling rushes to hold me in a tight embrace,sobbing, 'ma is no more. She told me to tell you that she is sorry'. After a long pause, 'forgive me brother.'

# 100wordstory # pictureprompt They walked up the field towards the base of the hill,where he lay,frozen in time Memories of a time,when they were not just a couple,but a family of three,flooded them.Memories of their little boy,as he played amongst these very grasslands,replayed in front of their eyes. She was about to pass out when he caught hold of her.Hand in hand,they walked up,watching the sun play peek-a-boo with the clouds. It was their child's first death anniversary.The estranged couple had decided to be together on this day.They had chosen to be in their child's favorite place.That was the little boy's last wish.

#100wordstory #pictureprompt I was in deep sleep when he woke me up. It was our long-awaited midnight adventure.The excitement was overwhelming. We walked through the woods and the mist. As always he led the path and I followed. He explained the sights and sounds, while I noted them as I ran after him.Yes, I forgot to tell you that he walked as if he flew. It was hard tracking him. And then we reached the cliff. He signalled me to jump after him. I was about to when an owl hooted. I remembered he was no more. He had taken his life here,last week. I can't follow him anymore. I have to live my life!

It was twelve. The wails of the baby woke her up. “Aww…., she must be hungry. I think the two-hour gap is not working,” muttered Nima as she rushed to the cot where the baby lay. “My little one. Don’t cry, please. Here, hold on to it...yes! That’s like my good girl.” As the baby latched on, she breathed a sigh of relief. Reclining against the backrest, she thought about the ordeal she had endured. *** Married for eight years, they had tried every procedure to ensure they have a child. She had prayed. She had tried every pill and potion. When they had almost given up, she missed her periods. “Rakesh, Rakesh,” she had yelled from the bathroom. The groggy man had rushed in fearing an accident. He found her crying and laughing at the same time. In her hands was the pregnancy kit and on it were the pink lines they have been waiting for so long. What followed was a long kiss under the shower celebrating their triumph. Months passed. An uncomplicated pregnancy is what the doct

Rudraani sat looking outside. It had been raining continuously for the last three days. The driver hadn’t turned up. The inaugural ceremony was supposed to start at 6 pm. “Good riddance. I can always tell them that the rains made it impossible to venture out. Let my secretary handle it.” Relieved, she made herself a strong cup of the aromatic tea that she had bought from Nathmulls, the famous tea boutique in Darjeeling and switched off her phone. “Now I can be in peace.”  But peace eluded her that evening. She felt depressed and she knew not why. She sat in her “green” balcony watching the rain lash at the cottage opposite hers. She watched the drops trickle down the pane tracing a pattern. She took in the wet dog shivering in the cold. Fetching a blanket from her almirah, she decided to make a meal for the wretched fellow. “He deserves it. There have been many times he has warned me of the intruder. He guards my house when I am away. And I have never been kind to him. Never

Rani dreamt she was back in Jessore* once again. The green fields, the white clouds, the clusters of Kaash* flowers, her school – she saw them vividly. The bell had just rung and the children were streaming out steadily.  It was happy hours for her and her friends. They ran in the field plucking flowers, collecting fodder for the cattle and singing in unison, the joyful tunes of Agomoni*. It was autumn – almost time for Maa Durga’s arrival. All of a sudden thick, dark nimbus clouds gathered in the sky, blocking out the sun, plunging them into darkness. The siren sounded and they ran helter-skelter, taking refuge under the bamboo hammocks. She motioned her friends to hide and remain inert. Soon, they heard a pair of boots trudging around heavily. The man in the boot poked and prodded everything around, checking for signs of life. That was when, she felt a sharp nudge. The stick was now poking her. It hurt. She covered her mouth. But, it was in vain. The poking increased in frequency