Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Theme 103 - Stories

From @TheScotchGirl:

D: But J have put so much behind us.We have overcome all our obstacles.
J : Well am not sure what exactly we have overcome and faced. By the looks of it, those were just make-believe.
D : Whats that supposed to mean??
J : Those were all stories and situations manipulated by you for us to be together. You liar.

From @swordfish19:

“I don’t like Kafka”
“Most of his stories are.. you know…incomplete…look at Trial…or…or…Castle…and what was that other one…Meta something….”
“His stories don’t need to be complete. That’s the point. “
“What do you mean? Every story has to have an end”
“No. Not his”
“I suggest you stop reading Kafka”

From @featheringhigh: She had grown up with them. They were her constant companions through heartbreaks, love, sleepless nights, moments of turmoil and moments of solace. They still were except now they were just hers no one else could hear them or understand them. Her story did not have a happy ending like the stories she had read.

From @TheFraudMallu: She was in love with his words ~ She pursued him for his anonymity ~ He kept away for his own reasons~ She was determined ~ Love happened ~ He unlike his stories turned out to be shy and silent ~ She felt betrayed and she questioned him~ He smiled and answered “They were stories”

From @shruti_says:

“Papa! A wolf ate up Grandma. You have to believe me! He wanted to eat me too but I ran as fast as I could.”

“Arya, it’s only a nightmare. Shhhh… It’s ok.”

He put her back to bed and watched her sleep. Weren’t fairy tales supposed to make good bedtime stories?

From @slokasays: Kanha left the old suitcase near the community trashcan with a heavy heart. As he turned to leave, he examined one last time, the colourful stamps covering it – evidence of his exploits around the world - the missed flights, business trips, the honeymoon, family vacations. 35 years, 80 countries and countless stories, told and untold!

From @karthikisthin:

“There was once a big bad wolf who…”
“No! Not that one. Tell me another one.”
“Okay. Once upon a time, there was a frog who lived in…”
“Nooo. That one’s boring!”
“Fine. In your closet right now, Pete - a one-eyed monster with a grumbling tummy - is waiting for me to leave. Good night!”


From @ControversyCat:

Swami Agnivesh makes kids drink their own piss.
Pinki Pramanik - Man? Woman?
Mayawati has how many statues now?
Kasab has shellfish allergy? Oh oh. Call in the country’s top doctor to assist the country’s top chef to remedy this national crisis.

This is “Generic Indian News Channel” and we present to you India’s top stories.

From @anjana_murali: The children came running out of their huts the minute they saw their ‘didi’. She gave them a smile, went to her usual place, removed her books and started to read Cinderella’s saga. The children listened, captivated. They were illiterate but lived their life and dreams every day during the two hours of storytelling.

From @pudworks:

He ran his fingers delicately on the paper. “55 killed in landslide”
His thumb jerked. He clutched the sheet tightly and continued. “Fuel rates hiked again”
“Freak manhole accident kills mother and her child.” He cringed.

As the little bumps fed him the news, he felt glad that he couldn’t see the world around him.

From @writingchalk:

He searched frantically. Like a madman, he barged into houses unannounced, searched under coffee tables, climbed like a thief through windows and frisked people.

When the police finally caught him, they asked, “What the hell were you searching for?”

He showed them a scrap of paper that read – ‘and so he lived happily ever after.’

From @deescjockey: Watching films in the local cinema was exciting, as was the lunch hour next day, recreating the latest potboiler for the benefit of our friends. We’d garnish the story with our own imagination, add peppy lines to tickle our juvenile humour; we’d blush at the mention of love. Films have become too accessible these days.

From @QuratZafar: She stubbed out the fifth cigarette and looked at the raw manuscript in front of her, threatening to swallow her life in a flare of publicity. The decision was made. She wasn’t brave enough to own her life. Her story would sit on the bookshelves as yet another piece of fiction.

From @SugarsNSpice: The smell of the ancient pages reeks out just one thing-Stories. Some written million years ago, and few were scribbled just yesterday, but they still inhabit my mind. There lies one string which ties them all together- words weaving some timeless imaginations . I sit here surrounded by them and wonder, "What will my story tell?"

From @_Nehu: “Ram left pregnant Sita in jungle to prove his nobility to his kingdom.” Ramayan Story annoys Nisha – Why we respect Ram instead of Sita? Ram could have left his kingdom, for his pride poor Sita had to suffer. Who knows Ram exists or was epic but Sita yes we have lot of them around us.

From @Stupidiotica: The psychedelia around her faded away into reality. The incomprehensible melodies gave way to sounds that she was now saddened to hear. She blinked and looked at him, sitting across her in the uninteresting room. He had stopped speaking, and was wearing another of his charming smiles. Another of his delirious stories had concluded.

From @sinpinklove: Palak would wait for the day to end. Every night her grandmother told her different stories - Ramayan , Krishna's childhood and village tales. She would listen excitedly and dream about them all through the day. Tears flooded her eyes as she saw the last of her grandma who had made her life a fairy tale.

From @roshd:

Bedtime stories my boys love :-
1. The dracula who drinks pepsi because blood is so impure
2. Casper - rude because he can’t scare anybody
3. Santa turned into a postman because nobody believes in him
4. Rudolph having rhinoplasty because the reindeer still laugh at him
5. Witches making soup because their spells don’t work

From @RootKanal:

"Back from school? Have lunch and sleep a bit."
"Which story are you going to tell today, Daadi?"
"Akbar Birbal?"
"The story will be ready soon, your highness!”
Lunch was hurried and I ran to see Daadi. Only, she wasn't sitting there with a story anymore. She had become the story I told everyone.

From @_saraU:

“What do you like?”
“I can read a story written in your mouth!”
“...and then! He removed the thorn! The dragon of Teethiopia cried out of pain.”
“He immediately inserted the magic potion and the dragon of Teethiopia was relieved of pain...”
“Here is your tooth!”
"I love Mr. Dentist Story Teller!"

From @shantusharma: Every night we would cuddle up around our grandma and coax her to take us to wonderland. Her tales of fairies and beasts amused us no end. Since then, many winters have passed. Grandma has grown frail today. She hardly speaks. Sometimes, she asks for my attention. But now, I find her stories boring.

From @vagabondinact: Into your words, I wove my dreams, the ones I saw with open heart and closed eyes. So vividly I saw them, bound together into a tale- the one I hoped would be told for ages, not as a myth, as a memoir of our life together. Wish I knew, you were just selling stories!

From @CruciFire:

I'll make you laugh. I'll make you cry. I'll seduce you. I'll commit blasphemy. I'll surprise you. I'll educate you. I'll impress you. I'll disgust you.

I'll push your contemplation and interpretation skills beyond comprehension. 55 words. That's all I need.

From @maruwahna:

Come beta, have some food .
No granny , I‘m not hungry .
Nonsense, you‘re a growing boy.
Okay granny, if you insist.
More gravy ? Have a second helping.
Okay granny, if you insist.
Come , put your head on my lap. I‘ll tell you the King and goatherd story again.
Okay granny, if you insist.

From @riddhiaswani:
He weaved each word intricately, crafting epics out of ordinary tales. 

And yet whence time came to unveil his craft to the world, hardly anyone understood what he really meant to say. His words, like those of many others, were lost, his name merely a hit on Google.

Writers often die an obscure death.

From @The_BuffMaster: An eternal rose that once blossomed, still spreads an enchanting fragrance attracting wanderlust bees that search for nectar. A rose, he remembers in every moment of his life. A rose, which now has no physical form but something more than that .Blurring between the words, hiding behind the sentences, she still dwells in his “stories”.

From @bitchwanti:

He loved stories, they took him away to a different world. "Finish the milk for a story", his mother would him.
"Sleep, I'll tell you a story."
"Complete your homework, a story awaits."
"Eat the spinach, if you want to hear a Story."
She died unexpectedly.
"Wake up, mommy! Who will tell me stories?" he cried.

From @vivekisms: We can create them, you said. Out of thin air, I replied, with a smile on my face. Yes. Out of thin air, you said again. How? I asked. Through us. Our stories, you answered nonchalantly. The grin is plastered on my face. Just like that day.

From @IncompleteWaste: He loved sharing his experiences in the form of stories. Sometimes exaggerating, he concluded every story with a moral, hoping they'd learn from his mistakes. The older he got, the more stories he shared. Even on his death bed, he attracted all his fellow patients. Life is full of anecdotes, creating a novel at death.

From @NabilaZaidi: From bedtime stories about Red Fairies and Little Elves to reading out horoscopes to him, every Sunday. From introducing me to Blyton to me understanding Faiz from him. He was wrapped in stories, of others' and his own.
His soft wrinkled fingers felt my tiny ones for the last time. They said, 'Bones decay. But stories - each one, only half done."

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