When All Fails

when all fails

Words failed, so did the world.


There are a few occasions where everything fails, love being one of them. How hard is it when you’re facing The One? Just wondering.

Any thoughts?

 

Pot of Gold

pot of gold

He was certain that this time there would be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. – Today’s Author

“Mr Kumar, they’re here!”

They heard shuffling noises from within and a moment later the flustered Kumar appeared at the doorway.

“Come in, come in. Sorry to have kept you waiting.” he wet his lips nervously as the boy’s parents had tightly pursed their lips.

Leading them inside, he called out to his wife, “Meena, ask Priya to get ready quickly.”

The custom began.

The tall, bespectacled boy wore a crisp full sleeved shirt and a pair of freshly laundered pants. He sat in between his parents who looked around the room critically.

The maid served hot snacks and tea. They ate in silence. Kumar fidgeted in his chair, and kept wringing his hands. He stole glances at the broker, whose smile was fixed.

“So,” the boy’s mother began, “how long should we wait for your princess to get ready?”

Kumar stumbled out of his chair. “Er — she’s ready, I’ll ask her to come out.”

Twenty minutes of Q&A, a vocal test and a walking test later, “Well, we’ll let you know in a couple of days.” Saying so, the mother walked off. Her husband and son followed mutely.

The broker followed them, and Kumar heard them quietly whispering at the entrance. And then, they were gone.

The broker lingered. “Don’t worry, Mr. Kumar. They like your daughter very much. They will call you tomorrow to finish off the deal.”

Kumar’s face lit up for the first time in weeks. “That’s so good to hear! Here.” He shoved five thousand rupees into the broker’s hands. “Have this as a bonus.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kumar. You’re so kind. Call me when you’re ready to marry off your second daughter as well.”

Glutton Diaries

glutton diaries

Finally, it all ends.
I welcome the calm
unlike ever before.

A week of pain —
week of disdain —
a week of sickness —
and involuntary fasting

All because,
of a night’s feasting.
Not much of a glutton
just an adventurer —
Shrimps and mutton
tandoori and fish
soaked in Indian spices.

Fried and toasted
grilled and smoked
so many flavours
so many colours
enthusiastically served
and experimented  —
a little too enthusiastically.

The main course gravy
with cut fish afloat
handfuls of ingredients —
not so much of goodness.

Just for a day —
blend custard pudding
and multi-flavour ice cream
top it up with lemon juice
wash ‘em down with fudge cake
pack up the rest —
and take it on the go.

It’s only for a day —
until you’ve learnt a lesson!

The Thirteenth

It’s that day again.

Whether ominous or not, people have — for a long time — perceived Friday the 13th as unlucky, associating it with all bad things.

Why though? Why is 13 so scary? Why associate 13 and Friday with ghosts, instead of work and Mondays? As far as I know, that’s the scariest (or detestable, rather) pair.

thirteen

We have the weirdest habits.

For Life…?

Bound by creed. Undone by deed.

for life


Ambiguity is my favourite aspect of a short story. Here’s a six word story open to your interpretations. Do let me know what you think – perhaps we thought alike?