Tag Archives: flash fiction

My Melody

The melody of your voice, has always been a little too dear to me. I held onto it like Scrat from the Ice Age held onto his acron, at times a bit too possessively and at other times, obsessively. I feared that if I didn’t hold it tight in my grip, I might lose it forever. So much that it did not occur to me to relish it in the present, just as Scrat. I kept on pursuing it, holding it close, but doing nothing else to ensure its safety.

Until there came a time when I started living life afresh, experiencing new things, things I never imagined I would ever be able to do, like moving seven oceans across, to a completely new land. I actively grew more engaged in changing how I would deal with certain emotions. Before I knew it, I had stopped thinking about you altogether. The new environment had a lot to contribute for it.

The other day, while rummaging through an old, dusty pile of e-mails, I accidently stumbled upon your voice recordings. That crisp, croaky sound gave me company for a good full day. While I was nearly going back to forgetting your voice, the following week, I came across a couple more of these recordings. These ones, probably the last of the lot that I still possess, took me back half a decade down the memory lane.

Its funny how such minute long vocals of vibrations confined in your recording devices can affect your mood, your emotions. How subtly can they give you goose bumps before you even realize it. How they can cause these tiny little droplets of salty water traverse the path down your lower eyelids, through your round, bumpy cheeks, then steeply down your jaws, and then jump down on your clothes making them moist.

It makes me wonder if you too ever find such broken pieces of our memories and if you take some time out to dwell on them a little, and try to fit those pieces together along with the salty water doubling up as glue. If you too cherish the times, while listening to the same old songs that we both loved listening to. If you too would want to go back to those moments and live in the melody of our love, if only for a few more minutes?

– Suri

Dreaming

In the last couple of weeks, two of Luna’s closest people have texted her, asking her how she was doing, all of a sudden. After a bit of talking, both of them confessed to having seen her in their dreams – but it wasn’t a good one, in both the cases. Typically, Luna is not the kind of person who goes looking for answers – answers to whether these dreams were signs, that something terrible and tragic was to befall upon her! She believed in none of this nonsense.

These two dreams were seen and experienced by people who did not know each other at all, but both of them knew Luna pretty well individually. When Luna had heard the first dream (God was it sad!), all she did was assure the person who saw it, that she was doing well and there was nothing amiss. What else could she do? But when she heard the second dream, curiosity caught hold of her. “You were chased by a serial killer, with some kind of a weapon in a very lonely street, where everything looked dark; and I stood there helpless and crying” – she remembered her friend saying on call. What if these indeed are signs? What if someone is trying to give her hints via her loved ones, to safeguard herself? Suddenly, she wanted to know more.

Luna’s thoughts were interrupted by the loud volume blaring from the speakers of the television.  Since the past few days, the local news channels and newspapers are filled with news articles about a runaway psychopath. The eye witnesses claim that he always carries with him a very clean, sharp and jagged knife. He’s suspected to be responsible for multiple murders in a nearby locality, but the authorities have found no reliable proof yet. If it were in Luna’s hands, she would never have wasted her precious Sunday morning surfing news channels, but currently the remote was in her brother’s hands, so she didn’t complain. She had to unwilling listen to the psychopath’s tale for like the 200th time since it first started surfacing!

Having a bad dream is terrible, Luna was wondering, but waking up with a bad dream and then REMEMBERING it, is the worst! We have to carry that dream with us the entire day, slogging wearily to ward it off; but instead we rather unknowingly, analyse it and picturize it again and again, on a loop. Slowly, we tend to become so anxious that there’s a constant feeling of dread looming above us, like a silent, floating cloud, she concluded.

How I wish that I could tell the seers of such dreams, thought Luna, that dreams are nothing but fragments of our own anxiousness, forming images and stories in our subconcious mental space. But could I tell them that? she asked herself, No way! But why not? She pressed on, maybe, because, in a way, I too wanted to believe otherwise?

After having their breakfast, her brother turned off the television, finally! thought Luna, to have a late-Sunday bath. After he was gone, Luna turned back to reading her book, which she wanted to finish in time – for her online book club discussions. The doorbell rang. Luna wondered who it was – they had very few visitors ever since the lockdown started. She peered through the eyehole, he seems to be some stranger, maybe a new courier man? Luna wondered. She opened the main door. Standing before her was a man approx. 5 ft 4 inches tall. His beard was unshaven and moustache was unkempt. “How can I help you?”, Luna asked him. But he spoke no words. All he did was point downwards. As she couldn’t see what he was actually pointing at, Luna opened the safety-door to have a clear look. Turns out he was pointing at his right wrist, in which he was holding a clean, sharp and jagged knife, that was glistening with some drops of red on it.


— Suri

A Bag Full Of Confusion!

Sometimes you do things you’ve never wanted to. And those times, when you never try the things you’ve always wanted to. They believe what they’re told. They see what they’re shown. They hear what’s blaring around. I ask, only for once, if you could try to seek out things for yourself; to pull down the veil in front of you; to move away from the commotion and hear from a place where you may find tranquility, do you think the situation would seem the same? I ask, why would you even believe and merely drink in the apparent world? If it was meant to be this way, wouldn’t everyone around be happy?

 

Note: It is an incomplete post. Nevertheless, I am posting it here, as I’m not sure how to end it properly. You can always share your views about it in the comments’ section. 🙂

– Suri

Missing You.

Why does a farewell always come with a grand celebration? Why are those bits of extreme happiness expressed, when the worst is only about to arrive? Why do people even have to be extra sweet while they are about to leave? I don’t know if it’s just a kind gesture, or a formality or the hiding of sorrows, but to me it feels like a plain slap on the face. Like, ‘Hey! Come back to reality! I’m leaving, you know?’ Great.

Of course, nobody knows when they are about to leave. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about the ‘I’m-going-to-die’ kind of ‘leave’. Only the ‘moving on’ stuff. Honestly, when I look back to it, it hurts if there was a sugary conversation involved in their last words. Like, they knew it all along that this day was about to arrive soon. I start to regret why I even befriended them in the first place! But regrets are fatal. So I turn it into resent. Yes, I hate you for not staying put. Yeah, I hold a grudge against you, so what? Does that make me a bad person now? Cool. That’s really what I had always wished to be! *sigh*

– Suri

Mistakes?

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Mistakes! Mistakes! Mistakes! Mistakes are good they say. If we just know the trick, we might end up gaining a whole brand-new set of experiences first-hand. But of course, we have to SUFFER before we get to feast upon our laurels. They say, mistakes are a proof that you are taking risks. Which may be for a noble cause or a bad one. But what if you make a mistake that can never be rectified? What if it sets itself as a permanent default? Ah, that – you would never know until – you try!

– Suri

Birthdays.

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‘Birthday’ that one word which excites her way too much before it’s arrival, yet always disappoints her on it’s special day. Special? There isn’t really anything special about her birthday. Partly because she doesn’t want to celebrate it and partly because, it brings all the past memories back to her. About the happy old days. Which she so desperately longs for. The thought of her birthday’s arrival, always brings in a new hope. A new light. Every year, without fail. Maybe this year would be different? Maybe my life could take a turn towards good this time? Maybe I’ll make some friends this year? Maybe I’ll start expressing my thoughts and feelings more openly now that I’m all grown up? Maybe I can avoid myself from plunging more into the depths of darkness and rather start by feeling the light, a ray of hope? But each year brings in the same results. No special birthdays. No noticeable change, no good days. Yet the future always manages to keep her going. Good thing- she doesn’t know where to stop. Maybe one day, she might stumble upon something special in her life? And wouldn’t that be a day when she may look back and appreciate her own struggles and hardships? It would feel like a well deserved success and that is what would make her really very happy!

– Suri

 

A Stone-Hearted Soul!

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She had a heart that was filled with terror. A heart compressed by fear. A heart rotting into mistrust and paranoia. She feels happy. She gets furious. She gets terrified. She feels saddened. Yet, she never dares to show any of these feelings on the outside.

It was as if she always wears a protective mask covering her skin, covering her face that expresses no emotions. A ‘Stone-Hearted‘ girl – they called her.

– Suri

Your Eyes!

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When I see you, I don’t merely look into those sparkly blue eyes of yours..

I look past them, I look at the deeds you’ve performed;

I look at the honesty you’ve shown;

I look at the hardships you’ve faced;

I look at the warmth in yourself;

I look at the curiosity, the knowledge that you so eagerly seek;

And then, I look at my own reflection in your eyes..

And the love you have for me!

– Suri

Only A Pawn!

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Today, when he looked into the mirror, it wasn’t his reflection that he saw. Instead, what he could see was an embodiment of the struggles of his past. The hauntings of his past. This startled him. He didn’t want to look at himself like that. He had always wanted to be the one who conquered over the emotions. He was like the pawn aspiring to become the King. He knew he wasn’t capable, yet he had that ambition, that fire within him which would take him to greater heights. He had always aimed to set an example to the world, about what it is like to have a turbulent past and yet succeed. Maybe he could really do that. But that, he knows, would only be possible if he learns how to take charge of his own emotions.

Mirror

– Suri