Hold my Hand

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 57; the fifty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Madhu Vajpayee, the author of Seeking Redemption and Shades Publications, the publisher of Friendship- Bonds Beyond Time.

man and woman walking silhoutte




"Hold my hand", she stretched her arms to him. He looked at her in awe. She looked fairer, more radiant and even more beautiful than the last time he had seen her eight months back. That was when she left him and was back today, for him, to him. He stood transfixed, lost.

"Hold my hand", She insisted again. Still in trans, he held her hand. It felt a little cold against his palms. He was too lost to notice any further.

"You came back to me." He exclaimed in a happy sigh. "I knew you would."

"I had to. I had been in love with you for so long. It wasn't easy to let go."

"Then why did you leave me in the first place."

"I had no other option."

He wasn't bothered anymore about the past. He was just ecstatic that she was back in his life. He kept walking, hand in hands with her.

"Where are we going?" He chided with a childlike enthusiasm.

She looked at him lovingly and said, "to some place where we can be together forever."

That was all he ever wanted. He suddenly felt severe pain, as if he was hit by a huge vehicle. He fell down doubled in pain. Everything went blank. A few minutes later he felt relieved. The pain was gone. He opened her eyes and saw her standing at a distance, still smiling. He was relieved he wasn't dreaming about her.

"Hold my hand." She extended her arms again to him. He got up, feeling much lighter and held her hand.

"We will be together forever now." She smiled at him


What he didn't see was the crowd that gathered behind him looking at his body lying in the pool of blood and a truck standing at the distance opposite to them.


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 21.

The Secret

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 56; the fifty-sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write.
silhoutte secret
There are no secrets
that time does not reveal
and no wounds
that it can not heal.
His deep blue eyes filled with tears that were ready to explode. His little fingers were tightly curled in the form of fist. His white skin was red with anger. Anybody could say he was trying hard not to cry.

"I am a big boy. I won't cry." With this he suddenly turned back and ran with all his might. He opened the door hastly and searched frantically for someone. He saw a silhouette in the kitchen and ran to it. He hugged the figure clad in saree on her legs and said,

"Momma, they teased me again. They bullied me and said the same things. But I did not cry today. I am a big boy." There was a touch of pride in his voice.

She bent down, hugged him and said with a quivering voice, "Yes my son, you are a big boy now. I am so proud of you."

His eyes gleamed with pride. He felt a little less hurt now.He doted her mother and she doted him back. He smiled, turned back and went into his room. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and wondered how long she will be able to hide the secret from him.

He has been quite independent in comparison to kids of his own age. He was just 7, he bathed on his own, got dressed on his own and even packed his own school bag. When he was ready, he looked at the photo frame on the table that carried the picture of his father. He looked at him sadly. He then took the photo frame, looked at it, looked at himself in the mirror and looked at him again, shrugged, kissed the frame good bye and ran out for his school.

*********
He is now 13 and had now grown up to be a handsome and intelligent young man. Now even he began to notice what the other kids used to tease him about. He doesn't resemble any of his parents. Though he hardly remember his father who had passed away when he was just 5. But from the pictures he knows he doesn't look even an inch like him and he definitely looked very different from his mother. He wanted to ask but never could bring out the question. He loved his mother very much and was afraid he would hurt her. He waited for the right time to know the secret of his looks.

********

He was now employed in a huge firm. He had been told his features are very similar to the owner of the firm. He, till now, hadn't had a chance to meet the ultimate man. His recruitment, trainings and everything else had been handled by his team of professionals. One fine morning when he came to office there was a big buzz. Everyone seemed charged up and busy. Whole office was running around.

"Whats with everyone today." He asked one of his colleagues.

"Boss is paying a visit today."

For some reasons he felt a shiver run down his spine. The man himself was going to be here. he wanted to make a good impression.

He knocked on the door jittery. 

"Come in." A firm authoritative voice said.

When he entered, he stood transfixed, shocked. it seemed like he was looking at an older himself. Apart from the color of eyes and the sharp nose, the person standing in front of him was an exact replica of his, almost.

"Devesh", the man dressed in crisp black business suit said in a tone of question. His voice felt like even he was just out of the shock of their resemblance.

"Yes sir." He said in a trembling tone.

"Come, sit. I have heard a ot about you and I have been wanting to see you for a long time."

Voice betrayed his throat. He could only manage shaking his head. Sensing his discomfort he offered him a glass of water. Devesh moved his head in gesture of no. 

"You remind me of young me. You just have a sharper nose and blue eyes. If I had a son, he would have looked exactly ike you."

"I guess so sir."

"Devesh, tell me about you and your family."

He then began to narrate his life, about his family, his mother, his father. His boss kept questioning him and he kept answering. 

"Sir, if you don't mind, may I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"You said if I had a son...I presume you don't have a son."

"I don't have a child. I am not married."

Devesh wanted to ask why but was afraid of getting too personal. After all it was his first meeting. Sensing his question he answered himself.

"I am not married. I loved a woman when I was much younger. She married someone else. So, that was the end of the story."

They talked a little more. By the time their conversation ended, they both had become fond of each other. 

After the meeting he was not able to concentrate on anything else. His head was spinning from all the information that his boss loved a woman who married someone else and he looked exactly like his boss's son would have looked. He felt sick with the connection this all was making. His heart wasn't ready to believe but his mind calculated that his mother had an affair and there are chances his boss was his father. 

Days passed, but he had no idea how to breach the subject with his mother. He decided to look for something, anything that could take him a step closer to the truth or give him enough confidence to question his mother. Everyday, when he had the chance he would go through his mother's things, hoping to find a letter or a picture of his biological father, but in vain. Day by day, when all his efforts were failing, he started feeling depressed. His mother tried to talk but he blindsided her with the excuse of workload. He now began to doubt his theory. He started believing that it was a sheer coincidence that he looked more like his boss than his parents.

One day when he was going through the things of his father, just hoping to find peace or a proof that would tell him that he was wrong, he found some papers that looked like medical reports. He quickly rummaged through it. But what he found made his heart skip beats. The report was dated before their parent's marriage and said that the man, his said father, lost his capacity of fathering a child in an accident. 

Devesh kept staring at the report. His heart sank. His worst fears have come true. His mother was coquette after all. She did cheat on her husband and her son along with the entire families of both. His fist closed. He was blinded by his anger. He had no idea what to do. He went out.

When he came home late night, he was drunk, he saw his mother was talking to someone over phone. He couldn't hear anything. He stomped to her, snatched the phone off her hand and said in a rude sarcastic tone'

"Been talking to another boyfriend haan?"

She looked at him in amusement and confusion.

"Devesh, you are drunk?"

"Yes, I am."

"But you never drink. Why, why did you drink? If you have a problem, if something is troubling you you can tell me." She tried to console him lovingly.

He pushed her away.

"You can cheat on your husband. And I can't even drink."

She was thoroughly confused now.

" There has to be a misunderstanding my child..."

"No", He shouted even before she could finish, "I know, your husband wasn't my father." And he threw those papers on his face.

She looked horrified. He walked unsteadily to his room. She went after him to talk but he banged the door on his face. She sat there and sobbed. The ring of the phone startled her. She picked it up.

"Hello."

"I have heard everything. The time has come to reveal the secret." Said the voice from the other end.

**********

Next morning when Devesh woke up, he had the mother of all hangovers. He had never touched alcohol in his entire life but last night that seemed be the only way out to him.As his head cleared, he remembered the incident from last night. He felt both angry and guilty. He opened the door and peeped outside to avoid his mother, who was to be seen nowhere. He went to kitchen to make a strong coffee for himself. It was then he saw someone in the kitchen, his grandmother.

"Grandma." He squealed with delight. He was very close to his grandmother. While his mother was busy mourning and trying to keep things together, it was his grandmother who took care of him. She used to pay them often visits, which reduced gradually. He was glad she was here. he needed someone to talk and bare his troubled soul to. 

She offered him coffee. He was surprised how did she know he came looking for coffee.

"How did you know?" 

"I know a lot of things."

His eyes widened in surprise. She smiled.

"I know what you did last night."

"How.."

"It was me on the phone."

He was even more surprised. he had no idea what to say.

"So, tell me everything from where it started."

He stared at the floor, took some time and began telling the story. Slowly, nervously he talked and his grandmother listened. When he was done she was quite for a while.

"So, you think she has cheated on your father."

"He wasn't my father."

"Biologically, no. But he was your father in every other way."

"So, you knew."

"Yes, How could I have not. He was my son."

"So you know mom cheated on him."

"No, she didn't."

He looked at hr in awe. He wanted to say something but nothing came out. His grandmother sighed and said.

"It's time you I tell you everything. I have known your mother since she was a little girl. I was her mother's best friend. She has always been sincere, honest and loyal kind. It happened when she was just 22. She was a beautiful girl and she was sincere and determined to make a career. She worked hard, going college and she took tuitions to earn some money to help her father. It was a late winter evening. It was long past the time since she was usually home. We were al worried. We tried looking for her everywhere but to no avail. It was past midnight and we were thinking over what to do next when she came home. She held the door and fell down. Her clothes were torn. There were nasty bleeding scars on her flesh. When we tried to pull her up and bring her inside. She jumped away screaming and terrified. It took us three hours to clean her up, apply ointments and take her to bed. The reason why you don't look like your mother and why she never told you about your father was because she herself don't know. She was gang raped that night any of them could have been your father."

He gasped in pain, in realization of what he has done.

"We never filed a report for obvious social reasons. Your mother was more like a corpse for a long time. She never said a word, she never ate or let anyone come near her. She always stared at the blank. One day she vomited furiously and fainted. Doctor confirmed our deepest fear. She was pregnant. With you. When she heard the news, for the first time in weeks we noticed the flash of life in her eyes. Unconsciously she covered her stomach with her hands as if shielding it from the world. She started eating. The pregnancy brought out the life in her. We wanted her to abort. After all it was a rape child. She had a long life ahead of her. With a child born of unwed mother and that too raped, all her chances of getting married was lost. But she fought everyone. She wanted to keep you. You were her child. She was even determined to spend her life in solitary, just to have you. By that time my son had been through a tremendous accident and he lost his ability of fathering a child. To save all the three lives, I decided to get them both married. They both knew about each other and respected the decision. They both swore to keep each other's secret, aong with me. And now, you know it."

A long silence followed. She gave him the time to absorb everything and he pondered over all the facts. it was so much for him.

"But I resemble my boss so much. What about that?" He asked his last doubt.

"Coincidence in the answer my child."

His head was much clearer now. Now that he had all his answers, he had no doubt what he was supposed to do next. With teary eyes and heavy heart he walked towards his mother's room.





The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 20

Trapped

Horror thriller shadow silhouette, woman killed murdered scared.



Trapped

“Where are you going?”  She asked.

“None of your business.”  He replied rudely.

“I am your wife. I have the right to know.”

“That you are. So, don’t act like I am a criminal and you are my parole officer.”

“But…”

Before she could even complete her sentence, he looked at her with those deep black angry eyes and raised his index finger in front of his lips. He then stormed out of the front door. She was stunned by the way he behaved. She kept staring at the door hoping he would come back any time, say sorry and hug her with all the love he claimed he had for her. But this never happened.  She wasn't ready to believe that the loving man she had married could be so rude. She assumed he must be troubled with something. She decided she would talk; she would try to become his best friend. And when he came back it was past midnight and he was drunk.

“Is something troubling you?” She asked him. She was concerned about him after what she saw last night.

“What’s it with you haan? Why do you always have to ask questions? Can’t you just let me be?”  He snapped at her and this time more furiously than the last time.

Before she could say anything, he banged the bathroom door, took his shower, got ready and went out again. Tripti was unable to understand this change in his behaviour. She was a common girl from a small town but with huge beauty and big dreams.  All she ever aspired was to be a princess of a handsome, loving, rich prince. When she came to Mumbai, the city of dreams for her further studies, she was sure this city of dreams will make her dream turn to reality as well. Little did she know what destiny had in store for her. Her beautiful looks and stunning features gave her many rich admirers whom she never denied.  But her life went for a spin when one of her rich connoisseurs took her to Poison.

Mayank was a Casanova. He was undeniably handsome and a charmer. He was one rich spoiled brat who could charm any woman and have his way with them.  So, when he saw Tripti in Poison he knew he has to have her. He played his cards well but Tripti knew better than giving in so easily. She didn’t succumb to his sweet games. She wasn't acting coy but made a point that she wasn't available, at least not so easily. Her playing hard to get made him more determined about acquiring her.
Mayank did put in all his effort and Tripti finally fell in love with him and all his money but decided against surrendering to him before marriage. By know she was well aware of his visage. She knew if she gave in before marriage, she will be dumped like the street side garbage. But once married she was sure she could have a hold on him with all her sensuality and beauty. Every one she knew was against their marriage but she went against the world and married him for love, for money, for her dreams of becoming a princess.

She was taken aback and hurt with his constant changing behaviour. She, by now, knew that he was not the kind of man to be held on. Under his cool, charming demeanour lies a cruel demon and she have had few glimpses of that demon. She was not really ready about what was to come.
His behaviour went on from being rude to harsh and harsher. He never gave her even a glance; he never asked her anything and never replied to her questions. But whenever they made public appearance which wasn't often, he behaved like a perfect husband. She made herself used to his rude remarks and would never have bothered about talking to him until that one night when they went to one of his friend’s party. It has been ages since the last public appearance, so long that she had almost forgotten how it feels to be out in public and have the attention of her husband. He was perfect that night. He feigned his love in public, touched her like a husband would touch his wife, gave her several pecks on her cheeks, danced with her and dined with her. But as soon as they got in their BMW he was back being the stranger to her. That night she decided it was the time they talk and sort things out.

“Mayank, I need to talk to you.” She said as soon as they reached home.

“Not now.” He said irritably.

“When then? Listen we need to talk and talk now.” Her tone became demanding and stern.

“How dare you use that tone with me?”

“How dare you treat me like I am no one, Mayank?” She raised her voice.

“You bitch, dare you shout at me.”

“I will and I have all the rights to do that.”

That was enough to unleash the beast inside him. He pushed her hard. She fell hitting her head to the corner of the wall. He walked past her in cold blood, never looking back at her even once, let alone worrying about her pain. She felt drained. It took her all her might to get up and walk to her bedroom. From that day on it hardly took any reason for him to be violent with her. He would slap her for being in front of him and then would slap her for not being around him. He needed no reason for punishing her. She knew she must leave him or must make complain. But she knew no one will believe her. Their façade of being a perfect couple wouldn't let anyone believe that he could even raise his voice on her, let alone raising his hand. She had no option but to stay in the marriage and with him. . And she had nowhere else to go. Moreover she wasn't yet ready to leave all the luxuries she was now used to. So, she beared with him.

It wasn't easy, at least not as much as she thought. Mayank was getting more rude and violent day by day. And when she decided she could not bear it any more, she decided to give up. She needed to talk to him and she was hell scared of him. But she couldn't see any other way out. She slowly walked to him, her hands stiff on her side, her fist closed. She was ready for any assault.

“Mayank, I want a divorce.”

He stopped whatever he was doing and looked at her like she was a little girl who has made some unnecessary silly demand.

“Are you even listening Mayank? I said I want a divorce.”  Annoyed at his behavior she raised her voice.

He walked closer to her and said in slow menacing voice, “Shouting won’t make me give in to your whims.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I am not divorcing you.” He said nonchalantly.

“What? But why? Not that you love me.”

“Well, you don’t love me either, then why did you marry me?”

She was shell shocked. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Don’t think I didn't know.”  He said smiling as if he has caught her stealing.

“Then why did you marry me.”

He came closer to her, put his both palms on the wall on her each side and whispered in her ears, “Because sweetheart you wouldn't let me have you any other way.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and her heart raced because she feared his closeness. Every time he had been close to her, she had been bruised, either by his beatings or by his wild painful love making.

“Now that you have had me, why not divorce me?” She asked him in a challenging tone.

Her tone flared the anger inside him, he held her by her throat and said, “Divorce you and let you have half of my property? This is what you have always wanted, right? Listen it good, I am not going to let you have it.”

His grip tightened on her throat. Her hands automatically went over his hands in effort of loosening his grip.

 “Instead, I will kill you. That’s a better way of getting rid of you.” He said.

“You think you can get away with it?”

“Of course, my love. Everyone knows how much I love you. How could I ever kill you?”  He laughed like a real villain.

She gathered all her courage and pushed him hard. He wasn't ready for her such powerful reaction. He tumbled and she ran. But she couldn't run far. He caught her again on her way to main door, near the dining table. He gripped her by her throat again.

“You think you can escape pretty bitch..”

He kept on mumbling something but she wasn't listening. Her senses were giving away. She could see a dark spot in front of her eyes. She knew she would die soon and her hands searched fanatically for something, anything she could hit him with. Suddenly her fingers touched something long, sleek and hard. She instantly held it tightly, pulled it and hit him with it. He screamed in pain. He wailed like an animal as the knife made its way through his flesh. A lot of blood spurted.

She stood there watching in amazement. It took her some time to realize what just happened. She was relieved and panicked at the same time. She didn't know what to do, so she watched him die. When he stopped writhing, she sighed, walked in to her room, got dressed, wore her blue silk scarf, took her bag, took the knife, wrapped it carefully in her scarf and walked out of her house just like that.

An hour later,
She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.







The Rain

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 55; the fifty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Rashmi Kumar, the author of Hooked, Lined and Single and Jyoti Arora, the author of Lemon Girl. .
Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.

The clouds roared with all their might, lightening lighted up the whole village. Tara left whatever she was doing and ran outside. She loved rain, she always have and never missed a chance of dancing in the rain. These few minutes had the power of washing away all her worries, loneliness and pain. Drenched, she feel rejuvenated and alive.  When she was satisfied, she went inside and changed, made herself some coffee and sat on the window. The musky smell of rain wet soil took her back in time when rain meant loud noises and games. This house was not always as quite as it is now. Tara reminisced about her childhood. In vacations every corner of the house was filled with children running, hiding, screaming. fighting, playing everywhere. Every now and then one passing by could hear a name being screamed in the house. Tara smiled at the thought of how notorious they used to be. They wished the vacations should just  keep going on while their elders wished otherwise. She has always loved the open front porch even as a child. She was always mesmerized by the way these rain drops danced on the floor. She remembered how each of them would go running to the porch for getting wet in the rain. They would scream and dance and soon the kids from neighborhood would join them. It felt like a fair. They would run all over the house collecting old newspapers. Their parents will keep screaming on them but they always gave them a deaf ear. She loved the sight of all those paper boats moving around here and there. As they grew old, the fun became lesser. The childhood was replaced by growing up. The boats and the screams were gone. Giggling replaced laughter. Vacations became shorter and shorter. And before long everything ended. Everyone of their sibling went out for studying and settled in come city or abroad. She did too but she always came back. She loved the house too much to abandon it. They had everything but time. Tara couldn't really remember when was the last time they had met. The house grew quite and lost its charm. After the grandparents death the house went awfully quite. And when her parents passed away the house become haunting. But she dared not leave it. People insisted, relatives insisted but she stayed back. 

She sighed, went back inside, washed her coffee cup and started what she had left doing.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 19. Image Credits: Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.

As long as Forever Lasts

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 54; the fifty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

silhouette of man kissing woman on forehead



“Happy mother’s day dad”

“Anant, mother’s day is for mothers and I am you father.” He tickled his son playfully.

He giggled.

“For me you are both my mom and my dad. So happy mother’s day.” He said seriously.

His eyes filled with tears, he was touched. He took the handmade card and bouquet of flowers.

At night Anant slide in beside him. He kept his work aside and hugged his son.

“Dad will you tell me that story again?” He said with a sheepish grin.

“Again?” He feigned annoyance.

“Yes dad, again.” They both laughed.

“Ok. Your mom and I were in college together but in different classes. We never met each other. One day in the market,  I was walking on the road and a scooty stopped right in between my legs. The lady’s face was covered with the hanky. Only her eyes were visible. Her big beautiful eyes.”
“That was mom, right?”

“Right. She said sorry and I was so lost in her eyes that I didn’t even move for what seemed like eternity. I didn't even realize she was gone until few minutes later. I kept thinking about her. I had no idea about who she was or where she lived. So, in hope of meeting her again I kept roaming around in the same market day after day but never got to see her again. It was our college fest when I saw her again. I recognized her from her eyes. I could never forget those expressive eyes. I never let her go then. I collected all my strength and complimented her on her performance and hence began our friendship. I knew I was love in with her, I knew she liked me but wasn’t sure if she loved me. But still I decided to propose her before it was too late. I asked her out for dinner. I bought flowers and a ring. I went down on my knees, told her I have always loved her and asked her if she would mind being my wife.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said forever my love, forever.”

“And you got married.” He clapped.

“Yes, and now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Ok dadda, good night.”

“Goodnight son.” He kissed on his forehead, turned off the light and walked out of the room closing the doors behind.

He made himself some coffee and sat on the chair. A hand touched him on shoulders.

“Trisha.”

“Same story again brother?”

He nodded his head.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself? You know it’s not true.”

“I know but I can’t tell him the truth. This makes him happy and for a time being me too. After all these years of telling the same story, it has started sounding true to my own ears. False may be, but this story gives me hope and happiness.”

“As you think apt brother. I am just worried to see you like this. I am going to sleep. You don’t stay up too late.”

He nodded and bid her goodnight.

He took the picture of his wife and him that was sitting on the table. He lovingly moved fingers on her face. Then kept it back, took his coffee and went to terrace. He sat under the sky thinking of the first time he had met her.

He was in the entirely new city, looking for a job. He had rent a room to stay. His neighborhood was full of kids of all ages. He loved spending time with them in the evening, playing cricket and football with them. There was this one girl who sat quietly on the swing in her verandah and never said anything. She would only watch whatever was going on around her. Once while playing a kid kicked the football near her swing and stopped right under her feet. He went to pick the ball. She pulled up her feet to her chest and buried her face in between her knees scared. He was amused. He waited for a moment. She put her head up just enough to look at him. The way she looked at him, the look in her eyes got him spellbound. She looked at him like she was looking right into his soul. For the first time he felt his heart beating loud. It gave him flutters in his stomach. Never in his life had he felt so alive like he did now. He wanted to stay. He wanted to talk. But the calls from his kid friends made him leave reluctantly.

 Later after asking about her he found out that though she was grown up physically, she was still a child mentally. Everyone kept teasing her always; some would even tease her physically. So she always stayed at home, alone. His heart went out to her. He would deliberately throw balls near her just to look in to her big beautiful eyes. Something in the way she looked at him always pulled him to her. He had often felt the smiles in her eyes when he was around. He just couldn’t resist those soft relaxed look. Just her presence made his evenings livelier. He would go through the day dreaming of her eyes.

His job included travelling, sometimes days sometimes months. He often tried to resist his tours but this time he had to take a tour of a month and half. When he returned he didn’t see her for three days. He began getting restless. He tried to ask casually to the kids. They nonchalantly told him that one day she went somewhere and came back with bruises and her clothes torn. They haven’t seen her since. From his landlady’s gossip he came to know that she went off wandering a day after he went on tour. It is being said that she was raped yet no one knew who did, nobody saw anything. Chances are she might even be pregnant. He even heard that her mental condition wasn’t good.  They keep her locked and are planning to move away.

Something inside him broke. He felt restless and desperate. He knew what he wanted to do. He loved her and it’s about time he should make her his. It wasn’t an easy task. His parents were adamantly against it and rightly so. Her parents were skeptical but agreed. He knew his parents would never give in but he was never surer about anything in life than marrying this girl. And that he did. He took care of her like a child until Anant was born.  Her condition started to worsen. She would jump even at the slightest of sound and would calm only in his arms. It started getting bad to worse. She, now, is in hospital where doctors are hopeless about her. He could never get himself to tell this to his son. The story he keeps telling him not only keeps his son happy but also helps him escape the reality even if for a while. He knows his forever is coming to an end sooner than he want it to. Forevers are never really for-ever.





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Forgiven


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 53; the fifty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Soulmates: Love without ownership by Vinit K Bansal. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.




father and daughter holding hands
courtesy Google images

Her memories of her father were of him being mostly away. She remembered how her father always made the excuse of being tired whenever she asked him to play with her. Her father gave her everything except his time. She remembers how her father always brought her chocolates. She hated her father and she hated chocolates.

For everyone else around her “growing up was a trap”, but for her “growing up was a relief”- relief that she doesn't have to see her father again. The fact that her every friend adored their father made her angrier. They would tell stories of their happy memories with their father and that would make her realize what she missed or she never had.

On her every birthday she would find a box of chocolates lying on the doorstep, each one different and expensive than before. She knew who keep them there year after year, her father.  Without even a second thought she always threw them away mumbling something about her father trying to lure her with expensive gifts. What she never noticed was that those expensive gifts were only chocolates.

One day her mother called her. She was only too happy to talk to her. Her mother was the only person she was close to. She loved her deeply.

“Hello mom.”

“Kate, how are you.”

“I am fine mom, but you sound distressed. Is everything alright?”

“No Kate. That’s what I have called you for.”

“What happened mom?”

Now even she was worried. The mere thought that something might have happened to her mom scared her to the soul.

“Kate, your father is suffering from cancer. He might not make it for long.”

She was stunned. She had never thought something like this might happen. But after a fraction of second she thought that it must be his father’s ploy to get her talk to him again. He had been trying for so long but nothing worked, so maybe he worked this out. She was in fact sure that this is the case. She was even angrier with her father for being so thoughtless about her mother. She was shaken thinking how her mother have been feeling now. She kept the thoughts to herself and didn't mouth it to her mother.

“Kate, you are there?”

“Yes mom. I am sorry to hear that.”

“I want you to talk to your father at least once. I want you to forgive him baby.”

“I will call him when I have time.”

“Thank you darling. I love you so much.”

“I love you too mom.”

She never called her father.

Days passed, weeks turned in to months. Her mother called her again, begging her to see her father one last time. She couldn't say no.  She reached the hospital where her father was admitted. She was shocked on what she saw. She had always remembered her father tall, strong and handsome.  The man on the bed was way to smaller and weaker. His face was wrinkled and his eyes were sunken. It was the way her mother was caring for the man that made her sure he was her father. His eyes gleamed when he saw her standing at the door. She felt guilty. She saw her father whispering something to her mother’s ear and then everyone left the room. She was alone with the man she hadn't seen and talked with for over a decade, the man she forgot was her father. He signaled her to come near. She obliged.

“Kate”, he whispered, “I was hoping you would come. I have so much to say to you.”  She saw his eyes were wet. “You know the day you were born I was the happiest man in the world. When I held you for the first time in my arms I was born again, as a father. I still remember that beautiful tiny face of yours. You looked at me with those shiny happy eyes and I knew that’s how I want to see your eyes- always gleaming with happiness. I gave you my every second I could. Whenever I was at home I let your mother have you only when you were to be fed. I always held you in my arms. I used to get thrilled each time you wrapped your tiny palm around my finger. We had nothing much but we felt like king and queen because we had you. You have always been my princess.” 

 He looked at her with those sunken teary eyes and something inside her shook.  “It was your third birthday. As usual we got you everything we could. We took you out and your eyes fell on a box of chocolate in the hands of one of your friends. You wanted it. We had no means to get you that box of chocolate or any other chocolate. They came pretty expensive then and I had a limited salary. You cried very hard. You kept crying all day and it killed me. I was ashamed of myself that I could not fulfill your one simple desire. I wondered how I was going to fulfill your other dreams and the dreams we had for you. Until that day I was content with my job and whatever I earned. You mother never complained and she ran the household efficiently with whatever I gave her. But that one box of chocolate made me realize it was not enough. I had to work hard, and I did. " 


Tears ran down her eyes, regret tore her soul apart. “Kate, I loved you then and I love you now. You are a part of me. I did not play with you, yes, but that doesn’t mean I never gave you my time. Before everything I did, every step I took there was only one thing I thought of, YOU. While you slept I sat beside you watching you dream. You would smile sometimes and I would wonder what are you dreaming of. You were always in my heart and on my mind before anything else.  It’s just that I never got to tell you. You are a part of my soul; I thought you would understand once you grow up. But we just grew apart. I am glad you came, else I would have died without letting you know how much I have loved you.”

She cried, hugged her father tight burying her face on his chest. She felt light now that all her hatred was washed away with her father’s love. She felt her father’s arm taking her in and she snuggled close wanting to feel the warmth she had missed in all these years. She felt her father’s arm slugging and slipping away. Her heart stopped. He died. She looked at his quite demeanor.  Her life flashed in front of her eyes. She cried hard. In one moment she found her father and lost him too.




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Reprive

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 52; the fifty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Metro Diaries by "Namrata". To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

letter



Dear mom,

I know I should have written this letter long back. I am not sure if reading this will be of any consolation to you but writing this is a huge relief to me.  You always said its better late than never so here I am, unburdening the load to you.


Mom, now that I am a mother I understand your pain only too well. Yes, your little girl is now a mother and that makes you a grandmother. I wish there was a way I could tell you this any other way. Now that I am in your shoes I understand only too well how heart broken I must have left you and how disappointed you must be in me. But I was too young to understand anything. Too much was happening too fast around me. I was confused. I had no idea what to believe and who to trust. I guess that was where I failed. Being your daughter I should have trusted you, I should have kept my faith in you. I should have known, evidence or no evidence, my mother could never harm anyone, let alone kill our father. Everything and everyone around influenced me to the core and so much that I condemn you guilty before the court did.

Mom, I so wish I could turn back time to the moment when you looked at me with those tear filled eyes, hoping I would understand and rudely I turned my back on you. I know it was that very moment you gave up fighting for yourself. Now that I am in your shoes I understand how much it must have hurt you. Now that I am in your place, I know you would never do anything that will hurt your kids. Now that I am a mother too, I know a mother can never be wrong.

For so long you must have suffered more because of me than of the accusation. I was not there when the court sentenced you, but now I wish I should have been there with you. I should have stood by you instead I ran away.

Mom, I don't know if you killed father or it was all circumstantial. I don't know if you are innocent or guilty. All I know is that you are my mother and I love you. I just hope you will be able to forgive me after all you have been through because of me. I hope you do. I will be there to see you soon with your grand-daughter. I love you and always will.

love
your daughter.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 16

Disguised

ski divas





He cleared the ice and looked beneath the clear ice sheet. Tears rolled down his eyes, freezing on his cheeks. There she was, looking serene and calm as if she was finally where she had always wanted to be. It has been ten years, long ten years. But looking at her face it is hard to believe. Even after a decade she still looked so young, so beautiful, so desirable. Looking at her beautiful wife, buried down under that ice sheet at the peek on Everest he wanted to cry out loud, but even his voice froze.



Tara was an avid mountaineer, and a good one too. She have had many moments of summits on many dangerous mountains. But being at the top of Everest was all she dreamed of. He never really understood her fascination, what she called love, with that ice-clad bone-chilling mountain. Somewhere, deep in his heart, a fear would always creep in at the mere mention on that mountain but he never showed. He knew nothing could stop her if she had a chance. He prayed to God, prayed for not giving her the chance. He thanked him as each day passed until her love won. She danced in ecstasy as a team wanting to summit Everest extended their hand to her. She left him for a long training session, then left him for her true love and never came back. Only the news came that she was missing. Even after many efforts they could not find her body



It took a year for his hope to die down, hope that some day she would come dancing on her success. It took him three years to came out of the grief of the loss. She was everything to him. For another three years he tried to decide what he wants to do with his life. One day while he was going through her things he found her diary. After reading he realized she had loved only two persons in her life- Everest and him. She had also mentioned her dream of seeing both her love together.


He now had a mission. he was determined to fulfill Tara's dream. And somehow deep in his heart he knew he will find her, he will find her waiting for him. After a long training and many failed efforts of summit and finding her, today he was there. In front of him lay Tara, buried in the ice grave and ahead was the summit, his mission, his dream, Tara's dream. He stood by her, relishing the feel of her touch that were still fresh in his mind after all these years.he stood there reliving his moments with her. Then with slow and steady steps he started for the summit. His heart felt light now. It was amazing how just a glimpse of the one you love empties you of all pain and grief. He now knew it was her plan to bring him and Everest together. She disguised herself like a peek on the Everest, the best disguise he had ever seen. And she knew all along that he would come for her, to find her and fulfill her dream.


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

The First Step

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 51; the fifty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Red Ink Publishers and "Curse Of The Red Soil" by Durgesh Shastri. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.






dream catcher



He watched her skin gleam under the moonlight like firefly as she lay half submerged in the water of Mandrem beach. The sand around her glittered like pieces of diamond. Her beauty added to that of the beach was maddening. The provided privacy gave her enough courage to walk around naked with a glory. She had a perfect figure that she had managed with utter devotion. He smiled, for he knew she was fond of placing temptations in his way and she always loved watching him giving away to them. She loved playing games with him where she knew he could not resist her and she pretends to be unaffected. He knew he had to make the move. He slowly walked towards her, resisting the urgent hunger building up inside him. As he came closer a fragrance, typical of her, filled his nostrils igniting his desires to the prime. His heart throbbed, ready to jump out of his chest anytime now, blood gushed in his veins, his breath coming short and fast. He extended his hand to touch the velvet of her skin.

His eyes opened wide, panting, he felt satin under his palm. He seemed bewildered, confused. he sat up with a start and looked around. It took him few minutes to realize he was in his room, on his bed and that was just a dream. He felt thirsty.

"Anu will you.." rest of the sentence died in his throat as he noticed the empty other side. He ran a loving hand over the pillow that used to be her and cursed the day they got divorced. Now that she was gone he was missing her like a mad man. He realized it was she who had made his life the kind he was proud of. But now it was too late.


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

She tossed and turned in her bed. It was 2 in the morning and she was still wide awake. It had been six months and yet she was not yet used to sleeping without him. She misses the smell of his body and his touch. She got up, wrapped her robe around her and went to kitchen to make her some coffee. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep so she thought of finishing her work rather than making a vain try to sleep.

She called his name often, asking for a cup of coffee when she worked late, or expected him come banging in her room and dragging her to sleep. She had been so use to it in the years they have been married. Abhay was the man of her dreams. He was her prince charming in every way. And now, when he was not there to take care of her, she knew how incomplete she is without him.

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


Ashu and Ananya were married for love. The initial year went like a dream. And then reality happened. They both were working. They both were ambitious. Before they even noticed their priorities changed from each other to their job. Too much pressure instigated them in to argument. Whose job was more important became a permanent reason for their fight. Their ego clashed. And the ones who once held each other hand with a promise to walk together, left each other to chase what the presumed was their dream. What they did not realize then was that they would feel so empty without each other, that it wasn't their individual dream that was important but the dream they saw together mattered the most.

Now both of them are waiting for the other to take the first step for making amends. They both have doubts whether the other want them or not. Its just the matter of taking one step forward but the question is who ?

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

Assumptions doesn't solve the problem, talking and sorting does. It's your problem so you should take the first step. And it is important to know that one dream that tops your list in the queue of your millions.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 15

A Lied Love


true lies






"Momma, Paris is such a beautiful place. Can we live here for long, like forever or so."

"Yes angle, that's the plan." Her mother said smiling

14 year old Reva was very ecstatic about moving to France, especially Paris. She was happy for herself, but more for her mother.

Reva's mother was a very simple woman. She was married to her super rich dad who claimed he fell in love with her simplicity but it never showed. Reva had seen her father bringing in women and going out with them but never with her mother. She had seen bruises on her mother's face and body which always showed even after her best effort of hiding. Her mother had sent her to boarding to keep her away from her father's deed and her mother's agony. And when she heard her parents were taking divorce, unlike other kids, she felt happy and relieved. With all the alimony her mother received they decided to move to some place new for starting afresh.

There could not have been a better place than France, the country of love. With all the beauty Paris held, anyone could see why it was the capital city. Reva hoped Paris could bring in their lives what they have craved for always- Love.

Days passed, they both were well settled now in their routine. Reva took up some classes and a part time job while her mother worked hard to provide themselves everything. Life was good. She was enjoying every minute of her life in Paris, unaware of what the city has in store for her.

Reva worked in a coffee and bakery cafe. She liked the aroma of coffee and pastries floating in the air. It always gave her a romantic tingle. She often noticed a handsome young man taking the same table she served. He would wait but not take any other table. She even noticed his long hooked glances on her. She knew she should be angry, but it made her feel good instead.

"He has not yet acted indecently. So I have no reason to be angry. And moreover every female loves a little attention." She would often justify herself in her mind. She was attracted to him as well, or better say to his attention. She realized it the day he did not visit her. She waited, agitated, disturbed, angry, sad and she was disappointed by the end of the day. This started their relationship, which she thought was love.

He told her he loved her in a simple subtle way. She confessed her love back to him. Paris was giving her everything she had ever wished for, but watching her mother spending a lonely life was still difficult. Reva loved her mother very much and prayed for the same happiness for her as well. Her prayers were answered soon. Her mother found her love and moved in with him. This gave Reva ample space and independence to follow her love.

But this wasn't the beginning of a happy forever, this was the beginning of an endless tragedy. This was the beginning of her end.

Reva moved with her boyfriend to Nevada, the silver state. She had to leave her studies because they had little money and a finding a job looked impossible. In spite of all these things she was happy for she thought she has found her true love.

"Reva, it is almost getting impossible to survive. I already feel guilty about not being able to fee your college."

"Its okay with me baby. All I want is to be with you. I am happy."

"Will you do something for me. This will get us some money to survive."

"Sure honey. Anything for you."

He gave her a flimsy dress and asked her to look pretty. He then gave her a little packet as asked her to deliver it to someone in a hotel. Room number and address was written on the packet. She found it odd but her love for her boyfriend blinded her. Before she could figure it out she had set her first feet in the bog.

Soon enough she found out the love she so believed in was just a lie. Her boyfriend was a pimp and trapping girls in his love was a regular ploy. She was sent to men night after night, sometimes to more than five men a night. She wanted to run but it felt like her legs won't move. She died many deaths. Her soul died the very night she was first sold. But in her heart she still loved the man.

She was then sold to other pimp who at least treated her nicely. She thought him to be a good man. She laughed at her new definition of good. A lie had changed her life in to nightmare. A lie robbed her of her soul and her identity. A lie snatched away her confidence and self-respect. A lie turned her life in to a complete lie.


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

The Journey to Today


footprints on sand




The madness of new year was not yet down although it had grown three days old. It was 3rd January but the celebrations are still on the top. She smiled thinking about the enthusiasm of her husband and his elated self when she gave him the new year gift.

"Oh, baby, baby I love you so much. You have given me a gift that is incomparable.You have given me everything."

...and with this he had taken her high in his arms and spun her around laughing like a 3 year old kid who has just received his most cherished toy. Well, it was bound to be like this, after all she had given him the most precious gift, the pleasure of fatherhood.

She went around lost in the ecstasy of the feeling of another life breathing inside her. She had so much to do and yet all the work now no more irritate her like it did before. She collected all the clothes and started putting them all in place. The feeling of being a mother was so musical that every time she walked she felt like she had been dancing instead. She opened her cupboard to put her clothes inside when her jeans from her college days fell out, bringing together so many memories.

This faded greenish blue jeans was her favorite wear anytime. Be it her regular class or college function or any party and outings, she always wore this jeans mixing it up with various tees and tops and accessories. This jeans had become her identification mark. And it goes without saying she was in the same jeans when she first met her husband.

Theirs was supposed to be the arranged marriage. Blame it on her jeans they fell in love truly, madly, deeply even before the things were finalized.

"You look...ummm...I means this jeans suits you. Actually, you look stunning in this one." Reyansh had complimented her and she had blushed in response.

And from then on began the saga of their love. The jeans had them started falling in love and they haven't stopped since then. It had been a long Journey to what she is and what she has today, but it has been beautiful as well. And after today it has turned in to a complete fairy tale with the ever after.



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

 
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