Saturday, April 4, 2015

55wordstory - Season 3 - Theme 5 - Anguish

From @WickdWeirdWitch:

Everything was set. All she had to do was wait. He would come home, switch on the light and everything would be abuzz. She would then escape to her lover!

There was a power cut. Fire didn't alight.

She was in anguish about how to explain the 1-crore insurance policy taken out a week ago.

From @meetumeetu:

147 Kenyans killed in a university attack.
Afghan suicide bombing kills 17.
Farmer suicides.
Honest officers die. Corrupt politicians thrive.
Not to mention, micro news doesn't make it to papers - “2,057,839 hearts break today.”

“Tell me again”, looking at her swelling belly, he asked, “why are we bringing another person into this world?”

From @mMrunal:

"Don't you understand, she's using you for her own benefits?"
"I know but I still got some feelings etched deep inside me for her.""Well, then you've a choice now. Either me or her."While choosing between his ex and his best friend, he asked himself,"Will this emotional anguish of mine, be ever cured?"

55wordstory - Season 3 - Theme 4 - Fervent

From @sanchoagarwal:

Parsottam Yadav, fervent supporter of the Communist party, decided to shoot the visiting MLA. 
Hid himself in the field;
Was about to shoot when he heard a bell ringing.
Ran for his life ,the farmer, fearing he had been spotted.
Turns out it was Radha, the cow behind him.
Saved by the bell, I say!

From @WickdWeirdWitch:

A fervent whisper,
a hushed smile,
accidental touch,
twinkle in the eye,
a sly wink,
a blushing lass,
a footsie try,
a “oh, stop it” knowing look,
an appreciative glance,
a somehow-managed flying kiss,
a paper aero-plane bearing plans for the evening,
an affirmative acknowledgement!
Romance in the library is only for the passionate souls!

From @meetumeetu:

Mrs. and Mr. R worked together. It was a love angle. She loved him, he loved his work. She wanted him to talk to her. He would talk to her – about work, fervently. The more he did that, with equal passion, the missus wouldn't want it. She found a new love - her adorable baby.

From @PennyKinned:

She tossed and turned restlessly, with fervent dreams of spinning trees and jagged wind and broken moon. A moan of fear escaped her lips, jolting her out of her sleep. 

Elsewhere, a storm of celestial proportions tore the woods apart at night. Like a fever dream, it came on swiftly and went just as suddenly.

From @oxymoronic_me:

She looked at the farmer from above. She knew he wanted her. The land below his feet was draped in cracks of drought. She saw him pick the knife and slash his wrist. She had waited for this. She laughed at her power and lashed down, drenching him and the land below his dead body.

From @auspicee:

He was upset, feeling like a subject in this objective world. He had pissed of these transfers and friendless zones.

“To get a stable job seems filing an application for heaven.” He sighed and peered outside the window. He got numb with teary-eyed. There was a kid on wheelchair waving at everyone, laughing fervently, alive.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

55wordstory - Season 3 - Theme 3 - Bibliophile

From @debzworld:

From 1955-60 Amma was appointed as the Head Librarian of The Library of Alexandria. Our favourite campfire story. Converging at her funeral, from all around the world, our memories ebb and flow about our extraordinary grandmother, inhabiting a house twice as decrepit; last seen sitting stone cold clutching on to a tattered copy of Antigone.

From @The Humerus:

"You're in my good books, while you, right there, don't even deserve to be here. I clearly don't get what sort of tragedy brought you to this place!" She kept on mumbling for some time. "Hey bibliophile, talking to your imaginary books again?", her brother said as he entered the ward. She didn’t look up.

From @dude_macha:

She got out of the metro, took the 20 odd steps down to the ground level, and waited to cross the road. Over on the other side, past the hawkers perched on the street corner selling their cheap jewellery, through the passage between buildings and a few shops to the right lay her paradise. Blossoms.

From @WickdWeirdWitch:

As she was packed off to an old-age-home by her children, her life – "her books" were sent to the library. She cried hard, whether at the inhuman treatment at the hands of her children or for parting from her beloved books, no one would know.

On reaching the old-age-home, a gift awaited her – a kindle!

From @Psilosophy

His illusions of order were shattered. The quiet confidence that stemmed from the knowledge that he had what he wanted, no longer enveloped him. He thought his world was sorted; that his plans proceeded as imagined. All it took was one sentence, “George R R Martin confirms there won't be a new book coming out in 2015.”

From @meetumeetu:

She liked how the word sounded when said aloud, “bibliophile”. It had a texture of naughtiness about it. It allowed her to cheat on her lover without being unfaithful - an acceptable form of adultery. After all, she loved words more than stories, for what are books without words? Another word she loved - meta.

From @TheBigDowg:

Bibliophilia or bibliophilism is the love of books. Accordingly bibliophile is an individual who loves books. A bookworm(sometimes pejorative) is someone who loves books for their content, or who otherwise loves reading. The adjective form of the term is bibliophilic. A bibliophile may be, but is not necessarily, a book collector. Eg, Vivek Tejuja. 

From @auspicee:

She narrowed her eyes on his unconventional choice. Although it was only reason she fancied him. He was a quaint reader. He smelled papers like Gabrielle Zevin, he romanced like Waller’s Madison country, and he dusted off the life’s dissonance like Mitch Albom.  

“But seriously? A Librarian? Just because you want to save obsolete bookshelves.” 

From @vivekisms:

He hadn’t stepped out of his house in years. Words were all that he needed. Books lay everywhere, like forgotten children on a picnic. Half-opened, half-read, but there, breathing life into him. Watching every move of his. Silently. He spoke with them. Read them. Remembered them and then he was gone. Books wept for him. 

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

55 word story - Season 3 - Theme 2 - Hesitation

From @sourcasm:

"My infantry was surrounded by the enemy forces and without hesitation we open fired at them. This war was the mother of all wars and we won it. WE WON IT FOR OUR COUNTRY" he told all the other ghosts while floating over his burning body with his crying wife standing next to the pyre.

From @meetumeetu:

“Meow”, she prawls up to my flat as the milkman delivers. She eyes the packets for laps of her nectar.

We race to the milk. She wonders if a pounce could still work. I pause, "should I claim my superiority, and shoo her anyway?”

That's our “good morning” everyday; with hesitation.

From @lucidillusions_:

He dreamt of that day once again. Their faces next to each other as they felt the others breath on their lips. They hesitated for a second and then walked away.

He remembered and regretted the day for rest of his life. He decided to change it as he finished tinkering with the time machine.

From @hinnaz:

“This seat taken? “
“That could change“
“Come here often?”
“Give me company?”
"Stranger danger”
“Could be changed”
“I’d want that?”
“We're still here right?”
“Am I interested?”
“Your eyes say otherwise”
“I need another drink”
"Finish your first one”
"This is all you”
“You owe them money”
“The bar”
“For me”

From @auspicee:

That deep intimacy of eyes, flickering smiles and flirting of heartbeats. There wasn't blabbering but reflective silence fondling on their lips and here I was being left on floor, half-dead, relinquished. Love overpowered me again.

I, hesitation wandering for a heart who is naive, afraid of consequences before celebrating love. Their stupidity is my existence.

From @arpithadesai:

Amidst the wedding cards, clothes, invitations and all the chatter and laughter of relatives, she tip-toed into the balcony and dialled the number she would never forget. She took a deep breath when she heard his hoarse 'hello' on the other end.

'I am getting married', she said in a shaky voice.

*line goes dead*

From @vivekisms:

I see you almost every single day. I know that maybe even you look at me. I actually do not know that. I hope you do though. I think of you sometimes. The way you held out the elevator door for me. I think twice, but I want to know. I reach for your doorbell.

From @cortevez:

After a great deal of hesitation , John decided to go through Bibliophiles 55 word story and found less number of entries. He searched for his smartphone and glanced it. He called Jerry to tell about the pathetic situation of the Bibliophiles. Jerry replied that there will be a great change in the forthcoming days.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

#55wordstory - Season 3 - Theme 1: Sequence

From @auspicee:

As day was fading outside, he was actually ready to leave his room along with sequence of her floating memories. Past months were hard for him; he was completely unaware about his existence after her. By walking on silent road he glanced at the moon, a fervent version of love; remembered her, smiled and damaged.

From @being_radical:

"How do you connect the dots?” she asked me while sipping her tea. 
Conversations with her were always driven by logic. 
"You haven't really spoken much too", she pointed out next.
A moment later the waiter arrived with the bill. 
"By following their sequence and...and  this completes our pattern", I said writing him a cheque.

From @sukantv:

His mother, a woman of unshakable faith. Her father, from Delhi, a world traveller on ship. He was born in a small town in Bihar. She, somewhere in international waters. He studies law. She too. He starts practicing law. She practices love. He wants to have faith. She wants to travel cultures. They meet. Love happens!

From @sleepingbonkers:

The hypothesis was simple; so long you didn't turn into the crème de la crème of the gathering and shied away from the security, you had your stomach full. The six days of the week went into the six venues, permuting the order. Celebrations were his play-fields, miscibility his skill and gate crashing his sport.

From @vivekisms:

The usual. The left and the right swipe. The sharing of statistics. The same questions. The same answers. Almost the same level of frustration too. The initial flutter and the meetings. It started somewhere and would not go anywhere. They both knew it. They stopped keeping in touch. The left and the right swipe continued. 

Saturday, August 23, 2014

55 Word Story - Season 2 - Theme 17 - Perplexed

From @TheScotchGirl: 

He was trying to read her face. Usually she had a face that you could never get.  Always buried in her phone or her laptop. Today she walked towards him with a bewildered expression. She was not sure what to say to him. Too much was already said last evening.

From @uditvashisht: 

“Krish, where were you?”
“Mom, I was playing with Sohan.”
“Beta, when’ll you understand? He is not one among us. Even Gupta aunty taunts that you even share eatables with a driver’s son. Don’t do it again.”
The five year old stood perplexed at the thought how a kid alike I could be any different.

From @GauravJagwani: 

They stood outside the doors. Neither of them knew which one to open. They asked the concerned people if they could have their own little door to enter to avoid the confusion. Let me tell you why. One door sign had a bikini. The other one, pants. But, she wore the pants in the relationship. 

From @JaaTeri: 

The kid got down from the rickshaw with his half eaten chocolate bar. As he paid the rickshaw puller, he glanced at the old man. He was sweating and looked exhausted.

“It’s Ramzan. Are you fasting?”

“Son, if fasting is Ramzan, then for the poor every day is Ramzan.”

His strange response perplexed the kid.

From @captain_speakin: 

They stood holding hands while the world gathered around to watch them become one. He lifted up the veil to claim her for a lifetime. Her big brown eyes were trying hard not to meet his, when they met, what he saw left him completely perplexed. He could hear everything they didn't want to say. 

From @WickdWeirdWitch: 

The professional-abductor came inside by the back-alley-window. Cut the windowpane with a blowtorch & climbed inside.

The light came on automatically & he was soon handcuffed and read his Miranda Rights by the FBI.

His plan to kidnap the daughter of the Israeli diplomat went-down-the-drain.

Little did he know that his email-&-phone was being tapped!

From @oxymoronic_me: 

The little boy was confused. He looked at the idol. ‘A God?’ he wondered. Fat. Huge. Head of an elephant. Body of a human. Mommy had told him God was beautiful. He wasn’t sure now.

He turned to walk away. A laddoo rolled out of a plate. Smiling, he gulped it whole.

God was beautiful.

From @ashishshukul: 

It remains a hotly debated topic among them. Was it an act of foolishness or valor? Is there any truth in all the silly rumors? The phenomenon was unprecedented. She was truly a pioneer. Humans think it is just a joke, but birds at the farm still wonder – why did the chicken cross the road?

From @roshd: 

He was the life of the party when he had downed a couple of pints.
She hated him when he was drunk.
They were a funny couple but no one suspected anything because they put up a ‘happy family’ portrait in public.
They could never fathom:why he loved and she hated beer so much.

From @_souringpie:

They joked viciously about those dire commercials. Suddenly an oldie from the backmost row berated them. They were perplexed,both by his action and his lone presence in the vacant back rows. Eventually, they settled. 

When leaving, they found him dancing jubilantly. "Life's beautiful! Enjoy!", he said. The young Sid in him had woken up.

55 Word Story - Season 2 - Theme 16 - Nomadic

From @UditVashisht: 

“Your itinerary has been mailed; you will be leaving tomorrow morning for the tour.”
“But Sir, I got married this Monday, had plans.”
“I know, but can’t help, sorry.” and he hung up the phone.
He started preparing for being a modern day Nomad again, not for the search for the pastures but green bills.

From @Gauravjagwani: 

They were always on the run. They called no one place ‘home.’ But, to their credit, they left a lasting impression on each and every one of the places they would frequent. They would come uninvited at times. That day they came to my hometown. ‘Hi! We’re called ‘Thoughts.’ Can we stay for a while?’ 

From @HulaHoopFairy: 

Pankhuri had seen the world.

Her heart, however, longed for those rackety lanes of Benaras, where she dreamed of touring the world one day. A place she would never return to. 

The feeling of belonging to a place eluded her. Never one for a miniscule existence in a gargantuan world.

Home was but an illusion. 

From @AnuNande: 

"The seemingly unending road blurred his vision if he stared too hard. Nameless faces. The love and kindness of strangers. The adrenaline slowly overshadowed by a need for their smiles, for the innocent lisp that enquired everyday when he would be back. He closed his eyes and strummed the opening chords. The bus rumbled on."

From @WickdWeirdWitch: 

The li’l one was nowhere to be seen. His mother worried incessantly about him. Finally she found him trailing behind playing with his newfound friends.

She breathed a sigh of relief and in her unspoken way, glanced unappreciately at him rebuking him for the folly.

He winged & came into her fold.

From @zoarcher: 

He moved all his life. From one beautiful stop to another. While the colours around were different every time, the food flavour was similar. He never counted his stops. He loved the fact that there was a song in his heart as he moved from one flower to another, staying with no one...loving everyone.

From @tweettabulous: 

After 9/11, life has been on a roll... I moved from one foster home to the other. I've no complaints.

Everyday is a new journey, that gives me an insight into different cultures and ancient folklore. Like Rachel Wolchin says, "If we were meant to stay in one place, we'd have roots not feet."

From @oxymoronic_me: 

The old actress lay on her deathbed. Reminiscing the past, she smiled. Everything had been easy. The fame, the money, the lovers. She looked at the people standing around her, shedding tears of sorrow. They did love her after all. Everything remained like before.

The only thing that never stayed was ‘time’. It killed her.

From @aseemrastogi2: 

“Run! Run! They are attacking us from all sides. We need to get to the hills as soon as possible.”

With heavy artillery and strong foot soldiers dressed in military fatigues, they were always ready for an intense gun battle. We had become nomads moving from one place to another trying to escape their mercilessness.    

From @roshd: 

It doesn’t feel like a journey but the destination. But am I not a traveller? I believed that that I’d quench my thirst at a new spring, eat my meal in a new oasis and sleep in a new tent every night. What became of the wanderer? Or is this just an unusually long halt?

From @vishalshriyan: 

'Average performer' he'd been called. He smirked as he remembered their snooty faces. He'd left them far behind. He gloated over the wealth he'd accumulated over the years. Not by stepping up his game. Simply by changing his workplace over and over at the right time. His nomadic approach had served him very well indeed.

From @ashishshukul: 

He navigated his bike through the narrow dirt road between soaring mountains and steep gorges. This road trip with his buddies was like a dream. Looming landslides didn’t intimidate him. Barrage power point slides did. Sitting among his rambling colleagues in the board meeting that day, he felt like a nomad waiting to break free.

From @_souringpie: 

"Hey what's that?" "Oh, that's a human." "It's gigantic! What does it do?" "Nothing, It chases some false hopes all the time, eventually missing out on simple and pure joys of life." "Can't it just fly and wander around this beautiful world?" "They loath our nomadic life but secretly envy it." "Glad I'm a butterfly!"