The FactFiction

"I am so fed up of all these promotional calls. And jeez what timing they have, somehow they always end up calling me when I am expecting a really really important call." He said annoyingly.

"What dad! Don't be a kid. Why haven't you activated the DND if all these calls bother you so much."

"DND?"  Now what in the hell is DND, he thought to himself. The generation of today has become so lazy that they don't even bother going any far than three words in a sentence.

"Do Not Disturb dad."

His brows wrinkled in an amused expression, "But I am not disturbing you, am I?"

His son sighs in exasperation, "what are you dad? DND is the Do Not Disturb services by the network providers. Once you activate this all these silly calls will be stopped."

"Really? Can this happen?" He was so amazed at the present day's technology.

"Yes dad."

"And how do I get this service?"

"Subscribe."

"How?"

"Errrgghh dad, you are acting as a questionnaire. hand me over your phone."

He gets up and hands over the phone to his son, who is still sprawled over the couch, frantically pressing some keys on his phone. He never really came to understand how can a tiny silly thing as a mobile phone an keep anyone engaged all day long, day by day and year by year. His son pressed some keys on his phone, put it over his ear hearing nonchalantly, pressed few more keys and put it over his ears again, satisfied he handed over my phone.

"Its done?"

"Yeah dad."

He was at complete loss of words, he didn't get what his don did. He wanted to ask but wasn't ready to appear any more of a fool in front of his son that he already has. He thought of the time when he used to satisfy his son's eager silly questions with love and attention without making him feel pathetic about not knowing something. The time has taken a turn, their places has been traded and the way has changed as well. This generation has not only grown in technology but also apathy. He resolved to find another way to know about things he don't already know.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

"How did I ever end up marrying the most unromantic man alive on entire planet", She sulked.

"Moira, why are you still here? Its valentine's  eve darling, aren't you supposed to be home with your husband?"

Her heart twitched at her boss's remark, "Neerav 's away at a tour Nik. Aren't you going home?

"Oh, yes yes, I am rushing before my wife decides to kill me", and he gave a hearty laugh.

She, more often than not, found herself envying Nik's wife. Even after three decades of their marriage, Nik is still heads over heels in love with his wife, and her husband doesn't even bother for their first valentine together. Throughout the valentine week, she kept giving him surprises and little goodies, and he always took it with a cold smile and a formal thanks.

It was way past working hours and her office was deserted. A light over her desk and a few lights tinkling here and there gave the office a romantic aura.

"How I wish Neerav was here with me. It would have really been romantic", she thought, "but if he was here, I would not have been in the office at the first place", she sulked again.

Though, theirs have been an arrange marriage, but to them it felt more like love. He used to be so crazy for her and so attentive and sensitive to her every need, until their honeymoon got over. Once he joined his office back, she realized she only stands next to his work. This was going to be their first valentine together. She had been very excited for this since January. And here she was, sitting in the office, about to celebrate the most romantic day alone.Her heart felt heavy, and so she decided to concentrate over the work on her hand. It was thirty minutes to midnight, when she was done for the day. She didn't feel like going home, but she knew she had to.

As she got down at her door a deep sadness and disappointment started to engulfed her. Lost in her thoughts, she did not notice a faint light glowing in the darkness of her house. There was someone in the house, in her house.

As she walked in she smelled perfume, or may be a room freshener. It was intoxicating. Suddenly she realized, someone is her in her house. A chill ran down her spines. All worst thoughts gushed through her mind in a fraction of second. She heard a soft sound of CD being played. She took off her sandals, grabbed the.brass vase from the nearby table and moved quietly towards the sound. She moved the knob of her bedroom door and ever so slowly pushed the door open. Her jaws dropped and her eyes widened at what she saw. 

The bedroom was decorated with most delicate fabrics, exquisite flowers, candles and valentine balloons. Her favorite fragrance floating in the air and her favorite music filled her heart. On bed, in between heart shaped flowers, was a message in the bottle.

If you await a guardian, he will come  will reward you for all the goods and punish you for all the sins ever done.

 She was already very annoyed over the way her husband was ignoring her since as long as their marriage. This has become a regular topic for their argument and today was no different. As usual she went shopping to pacify herself but it only added to her anger. The traffic was worst, the crowd was more uncivilized than ever, the noise was irritating and the paper bags instead of poly bags acted as the topping over it all. As she tried to unlock the door with her arms full of paper bags, her phone rang mercilessly somewhere in her purse. Finally, the door opened, she dumped the bags on the couch and hurriedly fished for her phone.

"What the ... . 38 missed calls in 10 minutes."  She wondered what was going on.

All the calls had been from the same number, unknown to her. As she was trying to decide between to call or not to call, her phone rang again.

"Nimmi, where in the hell have you been. I have been trying to reach you so desperately and you did not even bother to answer. You know how worried I get when you do this."  A crisp male voice started even before she could say hello. "Well, I just wanted to say I love you and that I am missing you already, come back home soon."  The voice started again, not even bothering for a reply.

"Nimmi, say something na."

"Ummm, mister, you have got a wrong number."

"What do you mean wrong number. I dialed my Nimmi's number, how could it be a wrong number."

This fueled up her annoyance. "Wrong number means wrong number." She shouted  before disconnecting the call and throwing her phone on the couch.

'Bloody idiots', she thought as she ran a hot water shower for her. Deciding to indulge herself in a steaming mug of coffee, she walked into the kitchen. Her phone beeped, indicating a message. It was from the same unknown number. She decided to read it before putting it to bin.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to annoy you. I just got worried when I couldn't reach my wife." the message read.

A sincere apology works as a magic to the fuming mind. her anger simmered down a little.

'Lucky bitch', She thought as she typed in her reply, "Its okay, happens. never mind."

*beep*

"Thank God you have a short lived temperament. I was so scared that you will report me in to the police :P".

This made her laugh and she replied in the same good humor. And it started, the series of messaging tying two strangers in a bond of good humor.

Many-a-times the saying that two person of opposite sex can never remain just friends proves itself right. This was one among those times. The conversation shifted from the world and their spouses to themselves. She started keeping her phone around her. Whenever her husband was around she would turn the profile to silent. She would wait desperately for his message and the message icon in her phone would always excite her like a candy to a child. She knew he was going through the same phase, because he told her so. And she trusted him. And then one fine day,

*beep*
"I have something to tell you."

"What?"

"Just promise me first you won't get mad at me."

These things annoy her a lot. She tried to keep her calm before replying "Okay, I promise. tell me now."

"I think I am in love with you."

Her heart jumped to her throat.

"Are you there?"

"Yes"

"Are you mad at me?"

"No"

"Then say something"

":)"

And their romance started. She found with him what she lost with her husband. He would say sweet words to her and everything she had always wanted to hear from her husband.

"Don't you think we must meet now", he texted.

"Why? I like it this way."

"But I can't see you on the texts."

"What is there to see. I look like any other woman walking on the street."

"Can't be. I can say you are way beautiful than the others."

She blushed.

"And moreover I wan to touch you. I want to hold you in my arms and run my hands all over you, just to know how it feels to make love to my whole world."

"We can't do that. We both are married."

"Of course we can. We are adults enough to make our own decisions, and we have decided to move out of our unhappy marriage and seek whatever we have lost in each other."

"I don't know. I am not yet sure."

He tried to reason with her, but she was not able to put aside that nagging feeling that was becoming prominent with his every reason. She was happy the way it was going. She was unwilling to change it anyways. Although she trusted him, but was unsure to what extend. At one hand he said he loved his wife, at other he said he loved her. Her kids, her husband, she had many people to think of. And everyday newspapers carried heart wrenching news of how affairs like these ends, how can she ignore that.

"Fine. Either we meet, or I am ending it right here."

Unable to decide what to do, she kept staring at her phone for a long while, for a really long while.


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

"What are you doing?", Kamya shrieked.

Karun, her very very notorious brother stuck out his tongue and ran. Seeing her both hands dipped in colors, her brother took the opportunity to tie the knots in her ponytails. He very well knew how to spoil the fun of one thing she loves- painting. At the age of 7, he was only a year younger to her, but so much more trouble causing. To her, Karun had always been unpredictable. Sometimes he would do something very unexpected to her, something really sweet and loving. But mostly he would be the pain in the ass.

'Its my birthday in three days', Kamya thought cheerfully. She was lost in planning what to ask for in gifts, when she saw her brother standing in the garden with a glass jar. Her senses came to rapt attentiveness.

"What are you doing?"

She knew it was a worthless question, one he never answers.

"Its mom's expensive jar", she shouted in desperation. He just looked at her at smiled mischievously.

'To hell with him', she mumbled and stomped inside.

In next two days she again saw him in the garden with the jar. This got her curious but she knew better than to question him.

She was very happy today, finally its her birthday. She was looking forward to the day of love and pampering from her parents, a little even from her notorious brother. And of course a lot of gifts. Her parents threw a lovely party. She had a lot of fun. Later in the night as soon as she walked in her room, happy and tired, someone grabbed her from behind, tied her hands and put a tight blindfold on her eyes.

"Who are you?"
 What are you doing?"
 What do you want?"

"Shhhhhhh ", the shadow whispered in her ears."You ask too many questions. Keep quite and walk." He whispered again, hoarsely.

Scared, she just walked, trying to figure out where was she been taken.

'Stairs. He is taking me to terrace. But why? Is he going to throw me from terrace? Am I going to die on my birthday?' Her mind was spinning with so many thoughts. Suddenly she felt herself being pulled to halt.

"Don't make any noise", he said and pulled off her wrist cuffs and then slowly her blindfold went off. As her eyes adjusted, it widened in surprise and awe. She was standing in front of the small glass room filled with a thousand fireflies.

"Happy birthday Di",  Karun smiled at his lovely sister.


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out themes for creative writing each weekend for Indian bloggers.

He loved brushing his teeth and filling his mouth with foam. He had been brushing when his sister came with paper in her hand, her new found attraction.

"Did you know toothpaste makes your bones brittle, also causes fluorosis and Alzheimer. And whatever they use for making foam causes skin diseases, infact  most of them are used in cleaning greases and cars. Ewww, so much for healthy teeth.

*gulps* the foam went down his throat.

"Really? ", his eyes almost jumped out of his socket. He turned and looked in to mirror, expression presumably shocked.

Ignorance is such a bliss, he thought.


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out a creative writing theme each weekend for Indian bloggers.

The prompt was ignorance is bliss and this is an attempted 100 fiction.

Anuradha's little cute cousin wanted to decorate the house for Christmas.

She told him the plans about how they were going to decorate the house, to put his agitation on a pause.

"But we will do it in the evening, okay." she ruffled his hair and went to her office.

In the evening when she came back she saw numerous cornflakes stuck on the walls. Her little cousin was busy sticking some more in one corner.

"Aarav, what the hell are you doing?", she shouted annoyed.

He made a puppy face and said, "you only said we will stick some cornflakes on the walls. I thought I will do it to please you. How does it look?"

 She just laughed.

She said snowflakes, he mistook it to be cornflakes.





****************************************************************


She came home all bruised, looking beaten up.

"What happened to you?"

"I was walking down the street, suddenly a fish came flying and throwing me down."

"What, a fish did this to you?" and he laughed.

She looked at him like he has lost his mind.

She said fist, he mistook it to be fish.


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

5....4....3....2....1 and the clock struck 7.

 "Its time."

She smiled as her daughter stormed out of her room, gulping down a glass of fresh juice and grabbing a piece of toast, grabbed her car keys and moved to the door.

"Bye mom", she said with her mouth full. "If you need anything just drop me a message. I will get it on my way back home."

Medha, her daughter, hardly had time to sit with her ever since she had been in job, let alone take a meal with her. Arunima sat down on the huge Mahogany dining table, switched on to the huge plasma TV and ate in silence while she had her breakfast. Though she is now used to this lifestyle, but sometimes a pang of loneliness would hit her for no reason. Earlier, when she moved in with her daughter after her husband's death, she tried to make Medha take her out in evening's somewhere nearby, for a walk. But off late her working hours stretched to late nights and ofter past midnight. In the beginning she would try to stay awake at least to have dinner with her daughter but her "I ate at office maa, you should not stay up so late or even dine so late" got her sleeping early. Now she only get to see her daughter when she storms out of the house at 7 A.M grabbing her breakfast. She misses her daughter a lot. They hardly talk, so she made it a point to stand around the table just for a glimpse of her daughter.

Arunima had plans for the day, it was her daughter's birthday. As the clock struck midnight, she walked in to her daughter's room excitedly to wish her, only to find her fast asleep. She sat at her head side and watched her sleep, reminiscing her childhood days. She ran her hands softly on her cheeks and heard her sighing. She walked out for the fear of waking up her daughter, giving her a long longing look before she closed the door quietly. The day started usually and before Arunima could wish her daughter birthday, she stormed out of the house.  Sadness and disappointment was apparent on her face.

"My baby is always so busy, she must have forgotten her own birthday". She said to herself and decided to make her favorite dinner by herself.

It was 8 P.M already. Arunima did not want to disturb her daughter, but her excitement was hard to contain. At last she called her daughter.

"Medha, when are you going to be home baby?"

"Why maa, is everything alright? Are you okay?" She sounded worried.

"Yes baby, everything's fine and am good too. I just wanted to know when you will be home."

"You scared me maa. I don't know when I will be back. Don't stay up for me, okay."

"Yeah, okay."

But she waited up nonetheless, in a vain hope that her daughter will be home early. That she would find all her favorite food on the table and  jump with joy like she always did when she was a child. She waited up just to see that pleasure on her face. What she forgot was that her daughter had grown up now. She isn't same little girl she used to be.

She was still awake when Medha returned from her work at around two in the morning.

"What maa, why are you still up? You should have been to bed long back."

"I know, I just wanted to wish you .I had been waiting all day but you were too busy. This was my only chance. If I had slept, I wouldn't have been able to wish you. Happy belated birthday Medha. May God bless you with everything you wish for."

Medha stood stunned as she looked at the beautifully decorated table laid out with all her favorite food. the aroma told her that her mother had cooked them. She felt like a criminal. In between all her work and colleagues and friends, she had not given time to her mother. She walked in to her mother's room. Arunima was in meditation, something she always did to calm her mind when she was hurt or distressed. Medha laid with her head on her mother's lap, and closed her eyes. A feeling of bliss eloped her. She knew her mother had forgiven her like always. In her mind, she resolved to spend as much time possible with her mother. And she slept in peace, first time in years, as her mother ran her fingers in her hairs lovingly.

".....And before I knew, I had hit send."  Although I just heard this last line, I already guessed what must have been the story.

I heard riots of laugh rolling out of the room. My sister and her friends were having a ball and she had been telling this story everyday to everyone, I don't know how many times. We are twins. I am full 30 mins elder to her, though I never get the feel of that. She had been lazy even when she was about to born. Like every sisters, we fight like cats and she somehow always wants what I have. And these are the only times when I am supposed to act elder. We have some similar sets of dresses, same iPods and tabs and even ditto copies of cellphones. I wish I could call my sister an exact copy of Cruella in 101 dalmatians, but she is way better looking than her and slightly better temperament. Okay, may be much better temperament than her. And I like my sister as much as I like Cruella.


Now, I must put in some good words for her or you would think I don't like her even a bit, which is true. She has a pretty creative brain when it comes to being notorious. Sometimes I really wonder how in the hell she could think of so many pranks, each of them just like her, silly and stupid. Leaving apart some of her stupid friends, we have quite a few common buddies. She is one Penelope Cruz, not with looks, just that she is pretty famous among boys and she likes been surrounded with them. And hence I share some of her fans ans my friends.

There's one thing I hated her most for- Aaron. Aaron, I loved the sound of his name, and somehow he became my first crush, and he never stopped drooling after my sister. Did I tell you she, I mean my sister, had always been pretty good at expressing herself. I guessed that's the only thing I liked about her, the way she could play with words.

The door of my sister's room was wide open. I had to cross it to reach mine. I tried to be invisible for I was in no mood to join them. As I crossed her room, I could not help peeping inside. And I came to abrupt halt. Yes, Aaron, he was there.

"Hey sis, When did you come?"
"Just now."
"Come join us."

 I was about to decline and then I saw him smiling at me. Oh My God, Aaron smiling at me. I almost fainted. I couldn't have said no, could I?

"Lemme change first."

I went into my room and saw roses, red roses on my bed along with a card on my bed. The card had some romantic message and then an I love you too, signed Aaron. And below his name was written in fine prints (I loved the way you expressed your love for me). I was befuddled. And of course heart broken. It must have been for my sister. I had no courage to go back to her room and join them and see both of them giving loving looks to each other. After few painful minutes, I heard a soft knock on my door. My heart stopped as I opened the door. It was Aaron.

"You didn't come?"
"Yeah, feeling kindda tired."
"I see you have seen them." He said pointing to flowers and the card.
"Yeah, am sorry. I dint mean to. But then since they were in my room..."
"They were meant for you only. I thought you were coming back home late, so I kept it here. But now that you are here, I want to say it in person. I love you too."

Cat got my tongue and I felt glued to earth. he smiled and went back. I felt as clueless as a dumb investigator. My head was spinning like top. I don't know how long I had been standing like a mannequin, but that's how my sister found me when she walked in. She shook me with shoulders.

"Sis, I have to tell you something." I looked at her blankly. She started speaking lightly. "I mistakenly sent a romantic message to Aaron, that I was supposed to send my boyfriend. I had no idea I had your phone in my hand....And before I knew I had hit send."
 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda



PS: This is my 100th post and my 21st post to Blogadda wow. I am really thankful to Blogadda for giving me food for writing every weekend. And I dedicate this post to my immensely adorable husband, without whose support I would have lost this flair of writing. And nonetheless I am pretty grateful to all those who drop by here and provide me encouragement. Thank you everyone.

He looked around helplessly with his big liquid black eyes

mamma, mamma, where are you?

Am here my son, right here. Don't worry.

Where mamma, I can't see you. 

We are in different rooms baby. 

Why mamma, why I am not with you. I am so scared. Come to me please.

I so wish baby. But I am surrounded with ugly looking grey bars. I can't even turn around.

Mamma, I want to get out of here. This place is not good.

What do you see around baby? Are there metal bars like mine.

No mamma, there is a wooden boards painted in red and green, and there is this dirty blue color wall. I am lying in stinky mud and there is a chain around my neck which is hooked to the wall. It is very heavy mamma, and it is painful. Please come and get me mamma.

Baby, I have tried so many times to break free. I have injured myself  but I have been unable. I am so sorry.

Mamma, there are others as well beside me. they look exactly like me. Are they my brothers and sisters?

I don't know baby. I have had many kids but I never got to see them.

Why mamma? Are we bad?

Ohh, no baby. You are my sweetest little kid.

Mamma, I am so hungry. Will you not feed me with your warm milk?

I am so sorry baby. These two legged animals have attached machine to me. They steal my milk every day. They milk me and fill the trucks with it and then go away.

Who are they mamma? And where do they take your milk?

They are humans baby. And I am not sure where do they take my milk. They say they need my milk more than my own kids. They make cheese and various stuff out of it, which I do not understand. They also say I will be hamburger one day. I don't know what it is.

Mamma, mamma, my door has just opened. They must be bringing me to you. I am coming to see you mamma.

Yes baby, keep calling me. I can hear your voice getting closer to me.

Mamma, they are pulling my neck hard, it hurts a lot. I can't even hear you clearly. They are taking me outside, far from you.

Try to come to my voice baby, and be strong.

I can't mamma. they hit me hard when I try. AAAWWWW...OOOUUCCHH

Oh no, my baby. kick them baby.

I can't mamma, they are holding me hard.

Try baby .

Mamma, they have an ugly looking hammer. They are raising it over my head. WHAT DO I DO MAMMA?

 Run baby, run.

I can't mamma. They are raising it over my head.

No baby, try and run my darling.

....................

Son, are you there baby.

..................

Baby, say something.

............................

*cries*


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda