Thursday, April 12, 2012

Theme 45 - Name

From @AbhiandNow: She was like the air, floating everywhere. Maybe she was like the water, slipping off everyone's hands. Or was she like the black clouds, everything looked beautiful when she was around? I don’t know her name, but I know she’s the perfect girl to be with. It's been 200 years, lying next to each other.

From @TheOtherBanana: They were, all three disappointed. Them for seeing that their daughter had not chosen the path laid out for her. Her for knowing that her parents would not look past the boundaries of yore that augmented society. They knew her name, they knew her face. But they did not know their own daughter.

From @swordfish19: The decision had already been made. Tejas, in case of a boy, and Tejaswini in case of a girl. But now as she looked at the stillborn child in the hands of the nurse, it really did not matter. She felt a feeling for which one could not even hazard a name.

From @RiddhiAswani: My name is inconsequential. My deeds more important, for didn't the great lord say deeds over thoughts? I may have heralded destruction, but I also proved devotion, duty and dharma. And when they dragged me by the hair, I proved law and logic. Wronged was I, then why do YOU not name your daughters Draupadi?

From @Marwaari: I was twelve when I saw her for the first time. Instant love, even the teachers knew about my liking for her. Same classroom, still we never spoke to each other. She never got to know my name. I was never dejected because I had an imaginary friend named Priyanka.

From @thebongbuffoon: I sat with a loaded revolver at my desk, my hands trembling, when the phone startled me. I rushed to the hospital and held my newborn daughter in my hands. She didn't cry. She just stared at me. I stared back. Then, I started to cry. She was born at dusk. I named her Dawn.

From @mizarcle: She was in the limelight post the performance. She looked at her daughter, one among the many she could see. It was an audition. Her time to shine.

“Just change your name,” he said.


“It will remind them of their mothers. No one comes to see a stripper with their mother’s name, Karma”.

From @rohini_sekhar: Standing with a tray in hand, he saw the long queue ahead of him … walking aimlessly on, vacant looks in those faraway eyes, a life of monotonous purposeless existence – “Number 983! Move along,” prodded the constable, and realization hit hard - he had even lost his name! Was namelessness worth it all?

From @oxymoronic_me: The Gulmohar tree stood in the center of the ground. The man surveyed the ground and knew what he had to do. The next morning the tree was dead. ‘Acid’, they said. A month later a swimming pool replaced the tree. High-rises would come up soon. Ironically, they decided to name it ‘Gulmohar Housing Society’.

From @TropicalAnda: “GOD THAT HURTS” barked Newton. “It’s noteworthy!” exclaimed his friend, “why did it fall down? This could be an invention...See you at science to create formulae now”, and off went the friend. Next month Newton presented the copied paper and his friend was registered in an asylum under the newly invented name - Anonymous

From @realfartshady: Emma sank into the bathtub filled with hot water. Her eyes were bloody red, but content. She’d had enough. They won't bully or call her names now. She finally had her revenge. Her publisher friend turned her doleful story into a national bestseller. Like they say, money heals all bruises.

From @indianidle: He fought his stage name always. They cheered him with that name, chanted that name. Somewhere his real identity was lost in that. But one day a little kid came to meet him. He asked, “What’s your name?” Fighter gave him his name. Kid asked again, “Your real name.” There was wetness in fighter's eyes.

From @Maidumji: He eyes his surroundings with suspicion as he prepares for her arrival. Unwashed clothes, no furniture, leaking taps, random cartons, stale food…This dump yard, it just wouldn’t do. She bursts in to the room, all sunshine and smiles. It’s gorgeous! I love the balcony! This dump yard has a name now. It’s called home.

From @chocoholic_213: He was visiting his hometown, walking through those streets he knew so well. 13 years since he'd last been here. Everything had changed, including his family-house. Walking a little farther, he stopped. The name 'Ms. Monisha Therwani' caught his eyes. He looked up to see her standing by the door with teary eyes. He smiled.

From @RBtrary:

Hot summer afternoon; village in Rajasthan:

“May I have a glass-of-water, please?”


“Raghvendra Mishra, why?”

“Sorry sahib, can’t pollute you with my impurity” replied the ‘low-caste’ villager.

Evening, same day:


“Raghvendra Mishra… why?”

“HINDU…!!! Kill him”

Headline (next-day): Communal-riots in Sujangarh village; casualties reported

“What’s in a name”- Shakespeare should’ve asked Indians…

From @NumbYaar: I had a million followers, a million people behind my life. I was in a new town where everyone hated me. The only reason being my name. It was a clear case of mistaken identity. But I had to live with the fact that my name too, was Kamaal Rashid Khan.

From @MrNarci: She hated her name. It was commonplace. He liked exotic names and called her those; she never liked any of them. She’d rather be like The Man With No Name. Or have one with the letter ‘Y’ in it. She pitied the fact that she could not choose her own name the first time around.

From @supaarwoman: “It’s hopeless,” Dr. Brady said. “She’s beyond help.” He tapped slightly on the glass door, hoping she would react differently. No change at all. Her mother sobbed into a tissue. All she did was hug herself tight, rock back and forth and mumble, “Oh na na, what’s my name? Oh na na, what’s my name?”

From @cluelessforam: A name I gain, a name I lose, A name that haunts me at dawn and dusk. A lot lies in a name, an identity, a personality. A name has the beauty of being a noun, a verb and an adjective. What's in a name? My name? Nothing for the world, but everything for me.

From @laalquimista: It was one of those embarrassing moments. I’d seen her face a million times before. Talked and laughed with her. Yet her name simply eluded me now, like grains of sand slipping through my fingers.

“Do, you, Elise, take John to be your lawful wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Oh, that’s right. Her name is Elise.

From @Violet_Drop: "Lancey, oh Lancey?” she sang, as she sought him. He was hiding in the closet, under a blanket with his superman action figure. The boy was tired of this game. He mustered up courage and got out of the closet. Who was calling out his name? "Boo. I gotcha!” she said, still nowhere in sight.

From @sahilk: My American friends find our road names really funny. Frankly, they are a bit too long for people to remember. I mean, my official name’s Abdul bin Fahad bin Aziz Al-Asad. But no one uses it. Neither do I. So calling it Saud bin Abdul-Aziz Al-Saud Street instead of Dammam Central 2nd Street is funny.

From @rinashah: He was the most charming kid on the signal, always smiling, greeting everyone and cleaning up the cars happily even if he didn’t get anything from the car owner. This girl in the car got really impressed with this kid, gave him 500 rupees and asked ‘what’s your name?’ ‘I have no name.’ He replied!

From @drac_69: It was his first interaction with media after the trip from rehab. ‘We thought you were dead’ scorned a reporter. ‘I can’t. I am immortal’, he said. ‘Years after my death, you are bound to find a book in someone’s hand, with my name on it. I will always live through my words’, grinned Carlin.

From @gauravjagwani: He had a Grammy under his name. It was probably the greatest moment in his life. Any musician's dream. You get all the respect that you deserve. From fans, yes. Also, others. This was half a century ago. Today, he still has that Grammy under his name. Ever shining. If only he could remember his.

From @rheality_bites: My wedding day. The moment I’d dreamt of. They call me a vision in red and gold. My grubby hands manicured, adorned, embellished. Flip-flops transformed to stilettos. Unrecognizable, they say. We stand together beaming. Hugging new families. I take his hand. And his name. Mrs. Gupta. Is that still me?

From @thearchness: Everyone knew her. Everyone loved her. She was a person - a friend, wife, mother. But above all, a person. Then, he knew her no more. And she, him. She decided to be a wife no more. Now, no one knows her. Still a daughter, a mother. But, not a name. A label – a divorcee.

From @hilonee:

1993: Badaal Moin Sen visited NY for the first time. The twin towers immediately caught his fancy. For days he walked the area around the towers, unnoticed & undisturbed.

2001: He re-visited the twin towers. From a cave in Af-Pak. And USA learned Badaal Moin Sen was an anagram of the name Osama Bin Laden.

From @anushreekejriwa: She was named after a river and their lives were similar. Continuity was the key, boulders came but she simply couldn't stop herself from fighting and moving ahead. She would get tired but somehow managed to stand up again. She was confused to whether her name was a blessing or a curse for her.

From @wekneweachother: After having lost everything and everyone she knew, the only thing she wanted to remember was her name. She wrote her name with her blood countless number of times on the walls of her room in the asylum. A name which had a lifetime encapsulated within itself: Lalita, Lalita, Lalita, Lalita, Lalita, Lalita, Lalita, Lalita.

From @deceitful_angel:

"Name your price-I'll pay!" , the builder pleaded. "This house has memories attached. I will not part with it", the old lady said with a shaky voice. "But I want to erect a mall here". "No"

She was found dead that day. The builder, her only son, is now the legal owner of her house.

From @rati7: I don’t know your name, but I like the way you look, like the way your muscles twitch when you move, your abs ripple as you turn, your biceps flex as you lift your hand to brush off those stray hair of your forehead. Oh for the first time in my life I am in lust

From @akshayabansal: The air reeked of gunpowder, blood splattered around him. He clung to his oversized helmet as the enemy closed in. He was 18, should've been studying. Instead, he was at War, knowing a stray bullet had his name written all over it. Just then, he was awakened from his slumber, in class, yet again.

From @SarwarBaig: For fourteen years, he was a top Removals Expert, the Agency's euphemism for expert assassin. Countless vexing issues were resolved by taking out hostile foreign politicians, terrorist leaders, belligerent dictators. Then he met a brunette with a smile to die for. The man with the made up name never checked out of the Hilton.

From @sahilbulla:

This was it. This was the moment he was waiting for. Deep inside he knew people would remember him forever. His name would be etched in their minds and a mere mention would bring smiles to their faces.

“You ready?” asked the director.

He nodded and yelled... “Mera naam hain Bulla. Rakhta hoon main Khullaaa”

From @dark_gal: We live in the UK. My name is Sukhdeep. When I was a teen, the firang friends told me what a killer name I had. And now, 27 murders, 11 rapes and numerous tortures later, I sure realize it is. Killer, suck deep, maybe? *evil grin*

From @michramiah: He kicked the stone along the dusty roads of Wolayitta. The documentarian approached him, and asked his name. His mother had refused to name him until the disease was cured, as it could just be... pointless. He shrugged his shoulders and began his journey back home, with a longing for identification, and a quivering lip.

From @dipakmah: I Would Like To Listen My Name With Pride, When Someone Talks About My Country. I Can't Imagine That This Name(Vagat Singh) Is From My Country. He Fights When He See Blood. We Ignore When We See Blood. He Fights For His Country's Name, And Us Fights For Small Things. Hats Off To Us.

From @yashakothari: It was February the 11th, the day I met her mother. She showed me her house, introduced me to her daughter. She took me around, she showed me her school. One blackboard, lots of mats and no sight of a stool. Proud she stood, so tiny her frame. I only wish I remembered her name.

From @woohoochild: Names do not always go down in history. Some noble humans die alone; some are killed in a bomb blast, some in a riot. Too uncared for or mutilated to identify. Today's media can make anyone famous. But how do we remember the ones who go unnoticed?

From @dasCapital_: In an alternate world, there were no rich or poor though people did earn more and less. There were countries, but no boundaries as they could not keep out intruders. There were theft, robberies and murders but no criminals, as nobody used to get caught. Because in this world, nobody had names.

From @dayadarwazatodo: She’d wait for hours, that seat empty beside her. Not a message or a call, he’d always have somewhere else to be. A lifetime of memories later, her heart raced at the sound of his bike, his poetry drove her crazy. He never saw that glint in her eyes when someone called out his name.

From @fountaintales: Alice tumbled through the rabbit hole into a nameless world. The table didn’t know it was one and wouldn’t stay still. The tea refused to be drunk and fought with the tea cups. The kettle was too friendly with the cakes and melted them. In this world, Alice could no longer be a little girl.

From @swaravali: She was a first girl born in the family in 40 years after many boys. So much love and affection was being showered. Grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousin everyone wanted to give her a name. After much deliberation one was picked. Name is a mere label. It is people who shape your personality and THAT is vital.

From @DrNiravParmar: I feel lost in this city. Not a single soul in its vast crowds recognises me. People look at me, as if they can see through me. It makes me feel, that I don't exist. Being bored with the indifference, I head back to the graveyard. Atleast, there's a headstone that knows who I am.

From @Hope_vs_Destiny: An old African saying, “When you give someone a name, you become responsible for them forever.” She was my love. I called her goofy, my goofy. Life made us go different paths, her love faded. She left me for some other guy. Goofy, I still won’t shirk on my responsibility, but how are you doing?

From @radhikamohandas: She tried reading him. He was sometimes words; sometimes, a blur. He was that moment of peace before her eyes and mind would cloud up. “What’s your name?” she asked him in her mind. And in her mind, he smiled his mysterious smile and crawled back into his shell. He’d read her sooner. And better.

From @saiyona: She looked. He winked. She fell. He held. She blushed. He caressed. She snuggled. He cuddled. She questioned. He answered. ‘Your name?’ ‘Prem.’

From @kunalbaidmehta: He was being felicitated for his phenomenal work in cancer research and he dedicated his prize to his mother who had succumbed to the dreadful disease ten years back. But even after such success, filling a form that asked for a father’s name made him cringe. Living the life of a bastard was a curse.

From @kingoFlames: When we first met, she called me Gunda. I was beating up a policeman. Then, cute, when she saw my FB profile. Flirt, when we exchanged numbers. After six months, Jaanu, After a year, Hubby. Now, she calls me a Cheater. Names changed. Has the person changed? Have I? But, Maa still calls me Chintu...

From @sumitrai100: Centre, left or right? Mohan was confused. 300,000 people were assisting him in finding his place, some succeeded, some failed. One name, Mohan, was all they were interested in. The bell rang. People left.CAT paper was over. Some Mohans got their right place in the row. Some were still wandering in those empty halls.

From @melittlepixie: Caged in zoo, he looked terrified. The board said ‘Do not feed’. Yet Molly threw in a few peanuts. The animal hungrily ate them and mouthed a ‘Thank You’. ‘The animal spoke’, Molly said excitedly. The mother grabbed Molly’s hand and walked away. ‘Ma, does it have a name?’, Molly asked. ‘Humans’, she replied spitefully.

From @anj_oh: She walked all day. Around a town as big as the colony she came from. The city girl was finally home. In the real jungle, where foxes are hunters and the hunted are dogs. She was finally happy. Far from her identity. Till unfortunately she bumped into him. “What’s your name miss? Are you lost?”

From @highheelswaali: He sat there from 9 to 5. Listening to people, providing solutions, signing receipts and having chai with the peons. There was a steady stream of people going in and out of the room. Everyone saluted and called him 'Saheb'. He wished it had been at least 'Shetty Saheb'.

From @drun007: He was an electrician, she was a vegetable vendor. They constantly fought over names of their unborn children. They were blessed with 2 girls and a boy. He won the argument and wanted to give them his identity. Their names are Bulbie, Tubey and Switchey.

From @khatteemithi:

Name please? ‘Renuka Ray’. The receptionist handed her the keys. Entering the room, she made a mental note. ‘Atreyee Sen shall die with her many mistakes pinned under one name- Amit Sen.’

Headlines: Business tycoon Amit Sen found dead, clutching his own confession letter of raping and murdering his secretary Renuka Ray. Wife Atreyee missing.

From @pearly_swhites: He was deviant. Corrupt. To set an example of righteousness was his supposed job. But behind closed doors, immorality was his sole virtue. People believed him to be a messiah in the making. Little did they know of his fraudulent secrets. He was the country's leader in name only. A mere designation, distinguished from fact.

From @thwanderingsoul: He gazed at the photo teary-eyed trying to remember the name of the woman holding his finger. "Names aren't important", mother had said. So he grew up not knowing the name of the woman who raised him. Today, at her funeral he wishes he had asked his nameless second mother her name.

From @kantaap: Ms. Baker had a tough life. She’d lived in foster homes with abusive parents, called unprofessional at times, had bad marriages and worse affairs. She’d lived and died with illnesses, mental and physical. They all called her names but not one of them knew really knew Ms. Baker. All they knew of her was – Marilyn.

From @bombaychor: "This spotless blade has tasted more blood than there was ever spilled in the history of a war. They say the edge is so sharp, it needs a layered Orwan scabbard. Legend goes that it can tear through the skull of a full grown Dragon in a single slash. They call it Zwa, the end."

From @vagabondinact: His forefathers had had the game, and fame followed his name. They said he devoid of any aim, within him lay no flame. The name was losing its acclaim, and for it he had no shame. He had wondered what’s in a Surname, and knew being known by it alone was lame.

From @freelosopher: Security threat, Mr.President. We’re sending a double. Please wear this badge. Changing limousines at Stanton Park.” “Let Brooks wear it.” The motorcade halted. The President and Brooks stepped out. The radio crackled, “The Eagle has landed”. The sniper peered through the viewfinder, hesitated, spotted the American Eagle badge on Brooks’ lapel and pulled the trigger.

From @tweettabulous: “Hello”. The nondescript IM, asking if we could chat. Yes.From casual chat buddies to becoming the closest of friends.He makes me smile every day, the long chats make my dreary life less so. Months after the initial hello, he remains “PrinceofRage” and I don’t need to know his name.

From @knpss: An official stood in a corner waiting for the information on the nameless criminal. There was a blast at a distance and the official ran, knowing fully that the asset was dead. At the spot, a burnt slip flew into his face which read ‘Name:’. That, he knew, was the end of the case, forever.

From @textuallyhorny: Heavy smokes lead to a pile of flames to debris of words. Torn tales. Standing still, at one corner, tears evaporated, he made the toughest decision of his life, not to write again. The publisher of the most elite magazine did print his choicest poetries in the latest issue but, only under a popular name.

From @lady_shweta: Dead. Distressed.Desperate. Alliteration.Wrote 5 novels, 50 stories.Rejected. Why do you think i write ? i write for money, fame & free lunches. No one writes for the sake of writing. My name ? Names only come in handy when you are famous. This is my last piece of writing. It's goodbye for now.

From @satyaagraha: Punditji suggests the letter. Grandma urges for even better. Sibling’s busy choosing a nick-Parents: they must wisely pick. Conforming to the evolution: It’s not yet women’s liberation. Unless you add a maternal middle-But; what finally solves the riddle. Is the trusting child, who’s innocently game….To whatever we chose to keep his name.

From @rumna: Placard in hand, I wait at the airport. Hours later, two hands wave simultaneously at me – one a gorgeous hunk and the other nondescript. I smile at the former and chat non stop all the way back home, only to be told this was the wrong in-law. I smile, hiding the phone number.

From @J_Keerthi: He was the reason for thousands to die. Everyone hoped he would meet his end soon. Then came a man saying, ‘Yes! We can’. Finally he was tracked and killed. The world rejoiced and the media reported ‘Obama killed’. And they still ask what’s in a name.

From @Munchin_Jughead: “God will provide,” the preacher had said. The couple, in their teens, were faced with an unimaginable dilemma. Neither could they accept the responsibility nor could they hide from it. Holding hands, looking in each other's eyes, they made a decision. The girl child was left at the church footsteps, without even a name.

From @Crucifire: Wings spread wide, eyes burning the sky, he soared off the ground. Enough was enough. “Gaia, your people made me do this!” Outstretched palms burst into flames as he directed his anger towards mankind. Jay died that day. Crucifire was born.

From @roshd: He glanced with satisfaction at the gazette copy in his hands. “Pradeep Kasliwal”, he read out aloud. It had a nice ring to it. Like it belonged to a marwaari businessman. What’s in a name? Plenty. He hated the name Dhasuram. This name change was his gift to himself.

From @ritukarthik: He had been seeing A almost every day for 10 years. Coffees had led to dinner and drink dates. Then there were sleepovers and them almost into moving it together. But things weren't rosy no more. He was standing for elections now and calling Andrew his lover wouldn't cut it for him anymore.

From @bhytu: Riots were over. Corpses lay all around the bloody streets. Amidst the dead, they searched for a hint of life. No success. Bodies remained still, cold and numb. Suddenly a cry broke the eerie silence. Life. They picked up the blood-stained baby. Who was she? Hindu? Muslim? They named her "Zindagi".

From @dinkypinkybrain: Krishnachar Columbus, travelled everywhere and tried anything, except the local Cambodian cuisine. A squeamish novice kitchen caller, he smiled weakly at Julianne. ‘A monkey species eaten to extinction’, The Guardian reported. Gulping the horror of a hyperactive imagination he pictured restaurants serving human arms. His boss yelled sharply, “Chop julienne chop julienne!!” And he fainted.

From @amanjotksandhu: He is an MLA. Not even the smallest of works will be done without paying him a bribe. He has many murders, lootings, riots and rapes to his credit. He knows all the prostitutes by their first names. When his parents named him ‘Satya’(truth), they had no idea it would become such an irony.

From @theghostwriterr: Riddle-Riddle I have for thou, Nocturnal in nature, I am the fear of the night; I am Whitechapel’s nameless terror with a thirst for blood & taste for their meat. I’m a demon, I’m no man. Wrote the letter from hell, Signed Catch me if U can. So tell me who am I?

From @anuanupam88: "Who am I? What’s my name" asked the lady. Doctors tried hard to make her recall her past. She has been through a major accident. Somehow she survived that, but she lost her husband, her baby and her memory. Few months later, she started her new life with the name “Khushi”. What and irony!!

From @JaaTeri: They ran into each other. Rahul couldn't believe it was his childhood crush. His heart skipped a beat. "Sujata Agarwal! It's been 10 years & you look as pretty as ever!" "Honey let's go," someone called out. Smiling, she walked away saying, "It's Mrs Sujata Gupta now....." Rahul turned and walked away without hearing further.

From @proudlyabsurd: Physicist, researcher, nobel laureate, aged thirty five. He searched frantically through the encyclopedia in his brain. This was life or death! It happened again just like the last time, nervousness did this to him. Now almost reduced to tears, he was looking for ways to explain to his date that he had forgotten his name

From @2emkay: The traffic was typical of Mumbai. She was in a Audi, he in a local taxi. The cars trudged along side by side, before he caught her eye. He said Hi. She responded with a wave. He pointed at the huge signboard. "Ronnie Hair Saloon". She smiled, and pointed back at it. Ronnie met Ronnie.

From @spud_31:

"20 years of trying and it had come down to this moment. Neha was nervous. She'd not slept since getting the news. Questions she had always wanted to ask, were a blur. She didn't know whether to call her by her name or not. She hesitated.. then dialed the number.


"Hello.. Mummy?"

From @CaptiousGazer: 1246SB. His new identity. Two days ago, he had been a normal child. Playing with his friends in the streets, dreaming of a better future for himself, hoping to become a somebody. And then, it happened. He was put up for an auction, as a slave. Rajesh was no more, 1246SB was his new name.

From @whimsytales: She doesn't have a name, she keeps asking for one. She lives in my head, and known by none. I know her like I know the sound of the rain. Indecisive, impatient, keeps switching the lanes. She is a force, a figment, the soul of my soul. An unnamed voice in my head, dreams galore.

From @salonitia: She got down from the train. It was her first time in Mumbai.
Taking a deep breath she took her first step,just then the crowd pushed her ,with that flew the paper,with the name of her only living relative there. Today was her first day in prostitution,only because she lost the name.

From @madrasmad: Pushing 80, and living by the day. Gundu and his pacemaker were inseparable. Dopey needed a walker whenever he got out of bed. Sigma had to carry her catheter and bag all the time. But, nobody had expected the besties to reunite at a senior citizen’s home after half a century.

From @OhTeri_: Pia was cheerful and friendly. Daring but innocent. No wonder, she had so many friends. One such outing with friends. Deserted place. She was raped by her so called 'buddies'. Broken and shaken. Her life seemed to cease. They blamed her. She locked herself for days. Traumatised. Life changed. She couldn't even recollect her name.

From @floydianbrahman: They set out at dusk on the King's highway in their blue roadster. And old legend serenaded over a silent evening as they passed through the wilderness towards Lake Hades. That name spurred a strange bliss in her aching heart. The shovel was in the trunk. The night may be pitch-dark, but dawn is close.

From @sinpinklove: My heart would flutter and face would turn scarlet red. I would give that stupid smile and girly giggle. My friends would tease me to no end. I would act annoyed but would be dancing inside. So much but he didnt even know my name.Such was teenage and the story of my first crush.

From @thehumerus: "Stop pushing me around!" "Then why won't you move?" Yes, unless M moved, how else would N take his place to turn Mean into Name?

From @sahilchandwani: I told mine, she told hers. It fascinated her, I knew why. I told her I lied, she looked away. I asked why? She had a sigh. “Big man I thought you were”, she said. And I thought she was different, you see I lie every time, because they lied saying what’s in a NAME!

From @priyankadharmsi: I locked my home and waited for the lift. “Excuse Me Ma’am! You’ve dropped your keys.” I turned. He forwarded my keys. “Hi! Karan!” My heart skipped a beat. He repeated, “Karan!” I stupidly stared at him. And he proclaimed “I guess, I don’t have such a hard name!” My expression finally changed to a smile!

From @incompletewaste: He had no name. Infact, he didn't even know when and where he was born. Working at the college canteen, he befriended the students, professors and the co-workers who loved him as their own son/brothers. He had a dream to own a small restaurant. After few years, he did. People still called him Chotu.

From @_Nehu: He worked there for years but no one knows his Real name. He used to deliver tea to every shop without failing even though His hands use to get burn by hot-pot; poor kid had no option they call him Chotu. He has somewhere lost his identity, his childhood. He wished he had a Dad.

From @writingchalk: It was a tense moment. A cold sweat broke out behind his ear as he stared at it. The professor had asked him to identify a queer chemical in the practical exam. After a lengthy pause, he finally mustered up the courage to say, "Plutonium?" The professor smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

From @tuhinaneogi: She looked around the yard with queer eyes, trying to find her lost identity. The truth of being an adopted child shattered her identity, her name, everything. She gazed at the sky and saw the birds, flying. Finally, she decided to fly too, like a bird, with a new name into a new sky.

From @zzeenius: I beseeched, insurgent sepulchral shriek. Collywobbles, spew'd my innards, repugnant viscera. Drenched in sweat, paraoxym of Claustrophobia struck me. Her screams reverberated,Torture & torment.Gehenna called death camps. There I lie impotent with her aspirations,only inept. Vitiated diary. Am I hallucinating ?? growing insane...imbecile ?? Love her ?? Haunted . Saturnine . Tenebrous. What was her name?

From @harryneopotter: In the morning, she was gone but her smell still lingered on to him. Wondering how in a single night, a stranger can change your world, he closed his eyes again. He could see himself, down on one knee, saying “I love you”. Then his mind asked THE Question “Wat was her name again?”.

From @mbrmjd: In Urdu my name means light and in Latin it is a shadow. There is infinite irony in this because I am equal parts dark and bright and forever walking a tightrope to balance my being. But the depth of my sadness too often seduces me; I crave wallowing in a puddle of my unhappiness.

From @teejavus: He opened his eyes as he heard another bomb explode in the distance. His ears were still ringing from the explosion he got caught into. He tried remembering where he was, what he was doing and why he got involved in this war. All he could remember was her name and that she needed protection.

From @jestchill: Her name...strange, she didn't remember. Unused for months, no..too many years. A different name at 6, when the voice took over and blocked out painful memories. Since then, she had 17 names, each with a personality...and now, she was in danger of being lost, Shalini, the dominant, had taken over her brain...

From @vishalkswamy: "Fancy a drink?" I asked "Sure" she said. The sparkle in her eyes every time she laughed. A hearty one too. The ordinary view from my terrace suddenly transformed into a dream in her presence. My throat choked a few weeks later when I saw her in an auto.... What the hell was her name?!

From @thealienatedone: She sat there. Trying to hide herself from the world and at the same time pouring her heart out to the world. People knew her opinions, her heart, her face. But what they didn't know, what she was hiding all this time, was her name. And there she sat fully visible and yet so abstruse.

From @ladyclonidine:

Sweating and breathing hard, he finally found his pace. Thrust after thrust, mounting in intensity, taking him higher. She clung to him for dear life, swept away by his power and love.

He was definitely The One.

Finally climaxing, he moaned “Oh Naina…….”

She suddenly went still, “Naina, who the fuck is Naina?” shrieked Nishika.

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