The Legend of Luma

Six Uri tribals saw the double rainbow from a distance and rejoiced! The time had come. For centuries, they had closely guarded the secret of Luma!

Everything had changed, the tribe had shrunk in size, and nobody believed in Luma anymore. But for those seemingly modern Uris, the legend of Luma was the very basis of their existence.

“Let’s drive towards the end of the rainbow. We will find her,” Bali, the leader said.

Their hearts sang when they found her in a car – a woman in labor. “I..I was trying to drive over to the hospital…,” she said weakly.

“Don’t worry we’ll take care of everything,” Bali said respectfully. And the others cheered in their hearts as Luma was about to be reborn!

(This my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the amazing Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. Thank you @any1mark66 for the image. Please CLICK HERE for more.)

After Kangana’s Coffee with Karan….

Seething with anger, Mr Karan Johar sat in a luxurious room post his ‘Koffee with Karan’ episode with the arrogant actress Kangana Ranaut. He had been contradicted and slammed on his own famous chat show by a little actress, who was weaker than him in every way. She had no ‘godfather’ in the Hindi film industry, she was not the daughter of a renowned filmmaker or celebrity, she had far lesser contacts and connections than him, and less wealth in comparison to him.  Although, red faced after being called a ‘movie mafia’, Karan had tried to maintain his composure, making it all light and good humoured but the cracks had shown on the show…

Breaking his reverie, the phone buzzed! It was his favourite actress. “How could she, the shabby thing, speak to you like that Karan.You poor thing, I know you must be really mad….and did you hear her disgusting accent….what’s wrong with her….,” the actress purred. Karan spoke his heart out for the next ten moments. The staff in the next room could make out that the boss was indeed in a very bad humour.

“The down market thing, needs to be taught a lesson….,” another favourite whatsapped him. By this time, the media and twiterrati were having a gala time at the expense of poor Mr Johar. The man had been stumped at his own ‘masala’ show! The media sided with Kangana, who had chided Karan for his nepotism and tendency to act as the owner of Bollywood.

 The Hindi film industry is indeed brimming with actors and actresses with less talent and more contacts. All the top notch actors are sons and daughters of celebrities – Alia Bhatt, Kareena Kapoor, Sonakshi Sinha, Shraddha Kapoor, Sonam Kapoor, Varun Dhawan, Tiger Shroff….to name just a few. Ms Ranaut had won this round of applause.

Mr Johar reacted subtly in his next episode of ‘Koffee with Karan’ with Kapil Sharma. “What would you do if you wake up as Kangana Ranaut?,” he asked the comedian. “I would delete my emails,” Kapil Sharma replied sheepishly. And then both laughed nonsensically, insinuating at Kangana and Hrithik’s affair! But the humour fell flat. 

By this time, more than half of the industry sided with Karan Johar, they needed to be in his good books. Ms Ranaut was always an outsider, a nobody, despite having talent. She had also dared to pick up fights with other prominent goliaths like Roshans and was said to be arrogant and rude. 

Karan struck again! While speaking on the sidelines of an event at the London School of Economics, he hinted that Kangana may not have understood the meaning of the word nepotism, that he was fed up of seeing her play the ‘woman card’ and ‘victim card’ and that if the actress had such a problem with the way  industry worked, she was welcome to leave.

That day, watching Karan’s vengeful speeches, Kangana smiled inwardly! She knew most of the industry people would refuse to work with her now. She had irrepairably damaged her career by being loud and clear but…what made her smile was…atleast she had managed to hit back in some way. She knew that she could be called names and dirty allegations might be made against her but she was here to stay! It was time for her to react again! She straightened her back and strided confidently albeit towards an uncertain future.

(Disclaimer – This is a dramatised version of the ongoing battle between Karan Johar and Kangana Ranaut. It is partly factual and partly fictitious. Images courtesy Google.)

Soham!!!

In the lotus position, he sat viewing the derelict pier. It was godhuli bela, the time when the grazing herd of cows returned to his village in subdued light. The calm lake, sounds of fauna, the gentle air settled him for a deep meditation.

As his half naked body relaxed, thoughts surrounded him. He did not try to stop them, just floated with them like a detached companion. Somewhere someone was playing the flute, it was magical! His mind aligned with the music, enabling him to be deeply aware of his breath. SOHAM!!!

Strangely, a cold creepy thing moved along his back. For a second he thought, it was due to Kundalini awakening but no… it felt terribly slimy! It was a KOBRA, crawling on him.

Crippled with fear and holding his breath, he waited till the snake crawled away! Then, leaving the mat behind, he ran as fast as he could!

(This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. Please CLICK HERE for more. Thank you Barb for the image!)

Shashibala, The Brave Servant Girl!

I felt as if I had walked along that bridge, a long time ago, in a different age. Strange! That was my first visit to the historic Fort in a small town called Monger.

The guide went on and on describing every little detail about the kings and queens. But I was not listening! The lake was holding me in a trance.

I was seeing a pitiable face down in the lake, crying out to me, asking me to rescue her. 

Instinctively, I screamed, “Hang on girl, I will help!”. 

“Who needs help? Are you okay?,” the guide asked me. I nodded with some embarrasment.

Later in the tour, the guide showed us the portrait of a brave servant girl who had drowned in the lake while saving a princess from drowning. 

It all came back to me. I looked closer and whispered – Shashibala!!!

(This post is dedicated to the maid, who saved my grandmother from drowning. When my grandmother was a little girl, she used to swim using an inverted earthen pot (matki), which slipped out of her hand on that fateful day. The brave girl died saving her.)

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. Please CLICK HERE for more. Thank you Joy Pixley for the image!

Khakhra

Little Brinda could not comprehend how it happened! All she saw was a jar containing some spice getting attracted to the old lady’s fingers. Her hand seemed to be sort of magnet! Was this lady a witch?

She watched as the scrawny lady grinded all kinds of spices. She kept murmuring something and Brinda got scared to even breathe in that strangely aromatic house.

“I shouldn’t have listened to grandma,” Brinda thought. But grandma had bad cough and the doctor’s medicines were ineffective. That morning granny said to Brinda,”Only old Khakhra can help me. Can you get the cough mixture…but don’t tell your parents.”

She agreed for grandma’s sake but knew that Khakhra was weird!

The mixture was almost ready and Khakhra smiled revealing crooked teeth. Brinda accepted the medicine bag and planned to run.

But Khakhra clutched her hand. Brinda held her breath as she pressed something into her palm and released her. 

Once home, panting and jittery, Brinda opened her fist – it was her favourite orange candy! 

(The character of Khakhra is based on a lady in my maternal grandmother’s village. She was rumoured to be a witch but actually she was quite nice. I met her when I was little.)

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. Please CLICK HERE for more. Thank you Maria for the image!

The Pink Panther

Sheila waited nervously in the lobby. Soon, she was to be called in for the interview. Looking down at her plain clothes and worn out sandals, she thought, “Will they even consider me?” The other candidates looked so stylish!

But she was not the only one, who was out of the place at the huge Film Design studio. 

Placed in the middle of life-like paintings of Cherubs, Nymphs and landscapes, was a huge photograph of a pink diamond against a black background. It just did not fit!

Her turn came and the overbearing boss threw a question without even looking up, “I saw you checking out the diamond picture in the lobby. If you were me, what would you name it? 

“The Pink Panther,” Sheila answered.

“Why,” he asked with interest.

“First, because the diamond in the picture is flawed just like it was in the film ‘The Pink Panther’.” 

“And second,” she paused looking around at the posters of Aishwarya. “Your favourite star was in that film.”

Sheila nailed the job!

(This image reminded me of the series of films -‘The Pink Panther’. In the film, a flawed pink diamond is used as major plot device. Famous Indian actress Aishwarya Rai Bachchan acted in the movie. Find her picture below from the film ‘The Pink Panther’. She will soon be seen in a new film ‘Ae Dil Hai Mushkil’)

(Image courtesy Google)

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. Please CLICK HERE for more. Thank you Jade M Wong for the image!

Three minutes to six!

I admired this timepiece the moment I set eyes on it at an old antique shop. 

“He will love it,” I thought as I observed the craftsmanship, hoping to gift it to my husband.

But two things seemed odd here. First, there was no price tag on it. Second, the watch was set at around 3 minutes to 6 and that made me wonder. 

I went to the old shop assistant and enquired about the price.”It is priceless,” she said. I said I wanted to buy it. 

“Well, then take it for free,” she said mysteriously. I heard her mumbling, “The watch has chosen you. Good luck to you.”

I had an eerie feeling as I reached my car. I checked time on my phone. It was 2 minutes to 6. 

I could hear two distinct sounds now – tick tick from the timepiece and thud thud from my heart! I felt I needed to make a decision…!

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. Please CLICK HERE for more. Thank you Louise for the image!

In search of a story idea!

Not far from where we live, there is a patch in the sky that holds ‘Thought’ clouds. You can call it the Thoughtland!

Whatever thoughts you’ve had today or in the past, travels to this place and sticks there. To be frank, it is quite a confusing world comprising of jet black, white, grey, orange and blue clouds.

Dark clouds comprise of sad or wicked thoughts while white clouds are inspirational. Grey clouds are filled with tragi-comic thoughts pertaining to ups and downs in our mundane lives. Orange clouds hold thoughts by people from the past while blue clouds, which happen to be my favourite, hold brightest ideas.

That day, like most thinkers, I unwittingly entered the ‘Thoughtland’ while looking for a story idea. I got carried away, flew and flew, and reached the cloud patch. It was totally chaotic there…as thought clouds flew past me whispering of bitter sweet things.

I found myself amongst the grey clouds first and read a few thoughts of a teenager – “Why do my parents keep finding faults with me? I will grow up and take up a job and live far away from them!” Then, there was a housewife’s thoughts – “Thankless job I have been doing! Since morning till night, I am working. Cooking meals, washing, taking care of kids. But no respect, no joy! I will have to do something about it!”

I steered myself towards white clouds and read a few happy ones. A girl was going on a date with the guy of her dreams and she was thinking – “May the fairytale I am living today never ends.” And then there were thoughts of a little boy who was going to Disneyland and he was dreaming – “Tomorrow is going to be the best day of my life”.

I read a few black thoughts too and felt revolted. Stopping myself from reading further, I attempted to catch one of the blue clouds because I intuitively knew they held the story idea I was looking for.

But the blue clouds were the naughtiest ones! The moment I tried to get near them, they vanished, and my own dark and grey clouds, blocked way. Some of the dark clouds screamed, “It is useless to look for ideas and inspiration. Get used to your mundane existence. It is stupid, tiring and hard to try. You are born unlucky. Just give up!”

It was difficult to breathe when the dark clouds started bombarding me with negative thoughts. The naughty blue cloud had floated away. I felt like being trapped in an ocean of depressive thoughts.

Somehow, a lone Orange cloud appeared out of nowhere and whispered – “All the powers in the universe are already ours. It is we who have put our hands before our eyes and cry that it is dark. Never think there is anything impossible for the soul. It is the greatest heresy to think so. If there is sin, this is the only sin; to say that you are weak, or others are weak.”

I remembered reading this quote somewhere. I guess it was by the great spiritual leader Swami Vivekananda! His lofty thought had stayed in the universe to inspire people like me. I chanted the thought like a drowning person holds on to a branch.

After a short while , I felt something wriggling in my hand. The tiny blue thought cloud was resting calmly on my palm. It had come to me on its own! I understood! The idea got pulled to me when I was chanting a positive thought. A bright frame of mind attracts great ideas!

I came out of the ‘Thoughtland’ holding the precious tiny blue cloud. An interesting story idea was already taking shape in my mind. I resolved to work upon it as soon as possible…because guess you know, great ideas often vanish quickly without a trace.

End of the World!

The travelling monk looked at the famous Il Gigante for a long, long time. His serene eyes were the colour of the ocean, while his orange robe gleamed in the sun. The beach was sparsely crowded and he found a quiet place to sit.

Sana, a middle aged writer, found the pensive monk as interesting as that colossal sculpture of Neptune towering above them. There was a strange, other-worldly glint in his eyes. She wanted to click his snap for her travelogue.

“Hello Sir, I am Sana, a tourist! Can I have a snap of yours, please,” she went near the monk and requested. He just smiled.

Perhaps, he did not know English language! She tried to communicate in a sign language. He smiled again, wrote something and gave her.

“The day this sculpture falls, the world will end. Every minute is important,” the note said.

Sana looked up, but the monk had vanished. A terrible gush of wind blew away the paper from her shivering hands!

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. For more information, please CLICK HERE. Thank you Momtheobscure for the image!

She Walks in Beauty

  
I saw her approach. She stopped and looked at my direction for a heart throbbing moment. Then, looked away. The perfumed breeze played with her long dark hair, integrating her with the colourful autumn landscape. Her flowing floral dress matched her peaches and cream complexion while red roses seemed to bloom in those cheeks. 

I was overwhelmed by the sudden brightening of the world due to her presence. The clear sky, blue lake, vibrant foliage, provided a fitting background to her supple form. Could such beauty exist? Was she a figment of my imagination? 

I started to write. It had been long since I wrote a word inspite of my self imposed exile in this cottage. Day after day, I had struggled with the dreaded writer’s block. But she appeared and my whole world changed.I needed to immortalise her in my work. 

A gentle knock jolted me out of my reverie. I put my pen down and peeped through the window. The damsel stood at my door…the evening sun formed a halo around her lovely head. I couldn’t believe my luck…!!

( The title has been borrowed from Lord Byron’s famous poem “She Walks in Beauty”. The great romantic age poet wrote this poem to celebrate virtuousness and beauty.)

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. For more information, please CLICK HERE. Image courtesy pixabay.com

Birju’s Misadventure!

  

Birju watched his three friends climb after him as he stopped to catch his breath. Happily, he whistled at the thought of going home that night.

Six months back, he had travelled a long distance from his village in Bihar to Jaipur to look for employment. Luckily, he had got renovating work at this historical site.

He knew things had not been well at home. Their house roof was leaking and his father was in deep debt. They needed money urgently.

He felt the sling pouch tied around his waist and couldn’t resist the temptation to feel his hard earned cash once again. His folks would be proud of him, he thought as he took out a few notes to have a look.

But before he knew, the notes slipped from his fingers and flew away with the wind. He almost jumped…!!! His friends yelled at his stupidity!

He tried to pull himself together. But stubborn tears kept falling from his eyes as he climbed down in search of the dear, dear notes…!

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. For more information, please CLICK HERE

After Twenty Years…

  

He felt disoriented on seeing the picture. After rubbing his eyes, he looked again. Yes, there she was…prominent in her white bag and blue jacket, studying something.  

How could this be true? His mind was probably playing tricks on him. When he had clicked that picture, there was no one  around.

He was aging and she looked just the way she had looked on their last day in college. 

Twenty years back, they had parted, ready to pursue their separate careers, fully aware that they would never ever meet again. 

But she had surprised him by extracting a promise. They were to meet exactly twenty years later at this favourite haunt to celebrate their friendship.

He had remembered the promise and had gone to that spot. But how could he expect her to be there? He knew she had long been dead… soon after she left college! 

(This is a tribute to ‘After Twenty Years’-a lovely short story by the great O Henry)

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. This challenge is open to all who would like to participate. For more information, click HERE.