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The Same

He gained his consciousness to the ringing of his alarm on his phone and opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds; and then he was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor until he took a deep sigh and got up to the start of his monotonous day, just like yesterday and the day before and all of those days before them, of which he had forgotten the count. He got ready for his office and left the house.

He walked through the same roads, down to the same metro station and waited with familiar faces for the same train that he took everyday to his office. He stood outside a huge building and entered into a big gate that led him through narrower corridors into a very small cubicle that he called his office. Grandly decorated with an old computer that he worked on, a stack of files and a picture of himself on the desk, from an ancient time when he was happy and could smile. He spent the most of his life there; and probably a little in the cafeteria where the people grouped together and talked about other people; which was almost the same everyday; they appeared like murmurs to him now. Nothing was exciting anymore. The dreams had been eaten alive by his personal needs and expenses, and his smile and excitement, by the monotony of his life and by his office.

At night, he would walk out of the office along with his colleagues, alone; distributing fake smiles to the people around him, just like he would when he came into, in the morning. This is what you have to give in return along with your services for the pay that you get from the company; and the ignorance from your pain to the world in return for their acceptance of you. So he walked back to the station again, on to the same train that would lead him back to his den; nowhere new, nowhere exciting.

As he entered the house, he got ready for bed, had his dinner and found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the floor. One deep sigh and then he lay down, waiting for sleep to take over him.


The next day he woke up to the same ring, sat up, gathered the courage and got out of his bed to the same day as yesterday. He walked to the station, took a train to office, worked with numbers the whole day, listened to murmurs in the cafeteria and went back to work again. With the same fake smile, he left the office at the end of the day, walked the same roads to the same station; took the same train and walked on to the same destination and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed till that deep sigh, and then lay back to wait for sleep.


The next day, while walking down from the station back home, he met an old acquaintance. As usual, he tried to avoid any contact because he wouldn’t have anything to talk about; nothing has changed in his life since 4 years. He has been the same. But it became unavoidable, so he stopped when his acquaintance started waving at him and calling out his name. His friend told him about the things he had done since they last met, opened an old wound when he talked about his long lost love, who has apparently moved on with her life, progressed, fallen in love again and was getting married. It was a long long time ago, but it still hurt. It hurt more to see that it was only him who hasn’t moved on at all, who was stuck with this life of no change.

As they bid farewell again, not knowing when they’ll meet again, they wished each other the best for their lives. He walked back the rest of the way, alone, with her thoughts, racing all through his mind. It all came back to him, once more. She was right, he couldn’t change; he didn’t have it in him, to change into something better than that. But he loved her with his whole heart, that should account for something.

He was standing outside his apartment when he came out of his reverie. He ramaged through his pocket for his keys and entered into his lair, finished his chores and found himself holding on to the edge of his bed looking at the floor and sighing, still thinking about the news. With the same thought, he lay down and fell asleep; a little later than the usual.

He woke up the next morning, late for work. Cursing himself and the alarm, he left for work. On the way, the sole of his shoes came out. Running out of time, he faltered all the way down to the station, caught an unusual train, with unfamiliar faces and entered his office with a genuine frown instead. All this led to him working overtime at the office, leaving the office alone, and catching the last train back home. He recalled the warning he got from the boss for coming in late and all the rush he had to be in the whole time to make up for it. He had totally forgotten about his shoes. He walked back home, with one shoes in his hand and the other in his foot, snailing down the alley.

When he finally reached outside his apartment and ramaged through his pockets again, he realised he had forgotten the keys to his apartment. He cursed himself again for forgetting it inside and stood there a couple of minutes, thinking what to do. Finally, he went next door asking for help from his neighbours who probably talked to him for the first time. It was an inconvenience that led to breaking the lock with a hammer that the neighbourhood man helped him with, but at last, an hour an a half later, he was inside the apartment.

He finished his chores for the night, a little more in rush than the usual; and finally found himself holding on to the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, with so many thoughts and events of the day going on inside his head. He finally paused and lay back on the bed, without a sigh and waited for the sleep to take over him.

Before he went into the slumber, something struck him out of all the inconveniences he had faced the whole day, and he smiled to himself, ‘ atleast today wasn’t like all the other days!’

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Posted by on December 19, 2018 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Diary of a Werewolf: The First Transformation

I still remember that first transformation. I had known for a while that I had been infected in some way by something, but I could not come to terms with it myself. It just seemed to me as tricks of my mind where it connected random incidents. I still remember that first transformation. How can I ever forget that! It all started with the moon.

I could feel something within my body growing, coming out to take over. The physical pain was excruciating. I had always had this way of dealing with pain where I would bite my finger or pinch myself hard enough to divert the attention of my mind from the existing pain somewhere else; but I did not know what to do here! I did not know which part of body was in pain or rather, which part was not. I could not feel anything else; throughout my body, every single inch of it; so much so that I could not breathe anymore. You can always tell how deep your wound is by the way it feels; I could not. It was like pain was the only thing that existed within me. I begged for it to stop, to whom did not matter, screaming, taking occasional breaths but nothing helped. I could feel my bones break one by one and I was in no state to count but I could tell it wasn’t just one. I was on all four of my limbs; I tried to lie down but I couldn’t move, except for the ways my body moved itself. I had lost count of time but it felt like eternity. I could feel my insides shift places, move within me and the broken bones moved under the skin, causing me a level of pain that I never knew existed. My jaws started to change shape and a redness covered my vision which slowly turned into black and that was the last of what I remember of the night.

I opened my eyes in the forest not far from where I live, under the shining sun which made it hard for me to lie there anymore and to figure out exactly where I was. It took me a few minutes to come to my senses completely and to even realise that I had nothing on me. I gathered some things, bits and pieces of a branch and leaves to cover myself and sneaked my way home. My whole body ached in a hollowness but I remembered nothing of the night.

Well that was only the first. It has happened so many times after that that I’ve lost count and become familiar with the pain. My body hasn’t yet gotten used to it; I don’t think it ever will. You can never get used to such torture. Atleast back then, this fear of transformation wasn’t there. The haunting has only been added to after my learning. The haunting, that it will happen again!

 
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Posted by on June 7, 2018 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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The Anklet

Oh how she loved surprises and those untimely gifts he gave her. It would light her face up every single time. She couldn’t wait to unravel his love that she held in her hands. With a wide grin on her face, she unwrapped it and opened the tiny little red box that smiled at her bright face.

“Oh! It’s beautiful!” She couldn’t keep her tears away from her. She took it out of the box and held it up with two fingers while the anklet dangled in front of her like she was trying to memorize every detail of it and then she put it back into box, “I’m going to wear it on some special day.” She said with a smile.

“No no no! You’re going to have to wear it now, and never take it off!” He said with an urgency in his voice that stirred the curiosity in her. “Why?!” She exclaimed, rather than questioning him, as soon as he finished.

“Because…” He paused to look into the eyes which demanded his attention everytime they talked. “Tell me, please”, the child in her wouldn’t let go without an answer. His eyes moved away as his lips widened and the blood ran to fill his cheeks. She held his hand captive in hers’ and demanded his eyes again, “please?”

“Because…”, he stretched the word, “it tinkles.”

“And so?” She voiced her thought.

“So… It would remind me of you. I remember how, the other day, I felt restless when I moved my arm in search of you on the bed.” He tried to explain himself

“But I was at home, baby! Where else would I go!” She inquired again.

“I know I know! But it’s not about that. It’s just… you know… I always want you there, even when I know that you are. I realised that when I was in that state of half sleep and I couldn’t find you on the bed. I grew restless. So, you see, when the next time that happens, I’ll know the sound of the tinklet and have a more peaceful sleep.” He tried to explain.

“And here I was thinking you bought me a gift to make me happy!” she said with a fake huff and turned her face away! He took the anklet from her hand and put it where it actually belonged; and kissed her cheek as he walked away into the kitchen, “Would you like to have some coffee, baby?”

“Ofcourse I would! But I’m still angry!” She smiled under her breath.


It was one of those bad dreams that always haunted him. His eyes opened wide for a second and then closed again, realizing that he was dreaming again. His eyes were closed now, his heart throbbing in his chest and breathing, faster. He burried his face into the pillow and ran his arm beside him on the bed in search of her when he suddenly heard the tinkle of the anklet. It made him smile again. “Katie” he almost moaned from his sleep and stretched his hand to his bedside table to pick up the frame that stood there. What better way to start the day than to see your love the first thing in the morning.

And then her voice echoed in his head, “You will always have a peaceful sleep, baby!”

He closed his eyes as a cat jumped on to the bed beside him; with an anklet around her neck! She purred as she burried herself into his pillow. “I know, love! We both miss mommy!” He said, as he moved his fingers on her head and stared at the anklet with teary eyes!

 
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Posted by on April 23, 2018 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Diary of a werewolf: The Deaths

I was flung in the air as I pushed his body away with my legs and freed my claws from his chest. His claws left holes on either sides of my neck and I could feel myself weak from the bleeding from different parts of my body. My final vision was of a figure vanishing into the darkness of the woods but it wasn’t him I was worried about; it was me. I had been badly injured and my body had been pushing it till that moment when my foe was out of my sight. My eyes couldn’t stay open any longer and my body exhaled a final breath as I descended from the height of that hill into the water below. As my body hit the surface of the water, my body came to an almost halt but the descent continued. As I entered the water, I started to feel my wounds getting more painful. The deeper I sunk, the more pressure was exerted on my wounds and the more painful it became. My whole body was covered with wounds and consumed by exhaustion. I soon lost consciousness, even before reaching the bottom and I knew this was going to be the end.

I don’t know after how long or why or even how, but I woke up, gasping for air, suffering from pain which was unbearable, even for the beast. It felt like the water was piercing through every single wound I had on my body. The pain was piercing through my will to live. I tried, but I could not move; my limbs wouldn’t support me; my heart wouldn’t give up. I gasped for air and tried to move my limbs again but failed; again and again and finally gave up. It was futile to try. So I just lay there, waiting, gasping uselessly for breath till I died, which seemed better than the pain that I had to bear, better than the helplessness I had to bear.

But it wasn’t my time I guess, or maybe the beast wouldn’t give up, I woke up again, gasping for breath and yet again failing to breathe. I was wrong; this was worse than the pain. It felt like I was being denied the satisfaction of dying, over and over again. The same thing, again and again. I don’t know how many times it happened, I lost count nor was I in a state where I could keep count. What I remember is that it was painful, very painful, every single time, being denied the most basic need of even a monster, air. I remember my body settling for water instead of air before drowning every time. The darkness surrounded me and all I could feel was pain and Death. The pain is unimaginable when you see no escape, no relief, no hope. The pain is unimaginable when death comes to you over and over again. 

I must have died, because there is no other explanation for my body to have surfaced without being void of life. I woke up, again; this time, in my human form but I could recall the horror I had undergone. Even for a person as strong willed and with high tolerance as me, it was horrifying. I could swear I felt even the body of the beast shiver with pain. I felt it reaching me, the pain of the darkness and the death and the hopelessness and fear it caused the beast. It shivered before every death, fearing that it’ll wake up again and would have to undergo the same horror again. Chills ran through my spine as the visions came to me in flashes and I wrapped my arms around myself as I dragged myself towards home, thinking to myself that there was no way a man could’ve survived that. It was the beast who did that; coming back from the dead, fighting death and coming back to life, over and over again. But then again, a man only has to face death once, it was because of the cursed beast that I couldn’t even die in peace. It’s a curse after all.

 
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Posted by on November 29, 2017 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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The Graves

His 45th birthday! A day which mocked him yet again, reminded him of the time that he had wasted, all those years that he had not utilized. He sat up on his bed, resting back at the headrest, staring at that face of her’s, which was still beautiful. Oh! The love of his life! He had done everything right in his life. A decent job, a decent lifestyle, a decent income and a decent family. He had fulfilled all of her needs and of his sons. They respected him and loved him and so did his parents. They were proud of him. He had fulfilled all the promises he had made to them, and all of those promises he had made to her; but what of those that he had made to himself! He sat there, his eyes drifting towards the darkness, thinking the same that his eyes could see, nothing! When else was he going to be that bestselling writer that he had always promised himself he would be. Where is that fame that he always thought he would achieve. Where are the fans. Where, the luxury! And when he thought about it, he realized he had actually achieved nothing in life. He had merely wasted his life. Those big plans, had never materialized. Those dreams, never came true.

He got up, breaking his reverie and snailed across the room into the washroom. The sound of the water from the tap filled his ears. He collected as much water as he could in his palms and splashed the water on his face trying to break out of the negativity that was drowning him. He stared right into his eyes in the mirror. It was suffocating. This monotonous breathing of his. He moved away from the eyes and stared at the wrinkles on his face. The futility of experiences that he had gathered, locked among these wrinkles. He stood there blank, without a frown or a tear or a smile, for he did not know what to do nor what to think of himself. He had wasted it all. All his years; in achieving everything! In being one of the rest. He wasn’t any different. He wasn’t special. Bound to be forgotten. He couldn’t face himself anymore and so he turned and walked into the darkness of the room again; the darkness which resembled more the inside of his mind. He got into the bed as slowly as he could and stared at her face once more. His treasure. She opened her eyes slowly and looked right into his eyes. 

‘Something wrong?’, she asked.

‘Nothing at all!’, he smiled with all the strength he had left in him and kissed her forehead.

She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, into that heavy heart of his. He held her close. The only fan, the only achievement of his life, his only treasure.

And then he went to sleep, with the love of his life and the graves of his dreams and desires.

 
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Posted by on March 14, 2017 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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The Wanderess

A laptop on the coffee table waited for her, along with the rest of her belongings. An old TV which was always there when she needed it, a bulky one seater sofa which resembled that she was all she had, a small wardrobe that held all of her moods and a laptop that she could never convince herself to switch off. It was a one bed room apartment in the outskirts of the city where the rent was cheap and which certainly cannot be called the most suitable place for a girl like her, young and beautiful. 

The doorknob turned and the door creaked open as she entered the apartment after a long day at work. That smile looked out of place on a tired face. She took off her coat and threw it at the wardrobe, probably expecting it to catch it. Her keys and her bag almost fell on the coffee table and she, on the sofa. She turned her face towards the laptop that had her list of mails on the screen and stared at the resignations she had sent over the years- all for one simple reason, because she was leaving the city; because she was moving.

She had changed occupations and workplaces more than a common man would have gone for vacations through out his lifetime. But it wasn’t about the occupation to her. It was about the life, a way of living, how you adjust to a given environment, in a given locality, in a given city, in a given state; in a given country. She had lived so many lives in that one lifetime of her’s; and this still wasn’t the end. She longed, for experiences, for novelty, for something that would be out of the ordinary, at least for her. She was like a tornado, blowing around, in a chaos, who didn’t want to come to rest. She wanted to get more from life than what it had to offer. She couldn’t think about staying, leading her life in a monotony, her whole life, in one place, with the same set of people, with the same routine, over and over and over for the rest of her monotonous life.

It was time again. She had stayed here for too long. Her last day at work, she had made it a point to say goodbyes to everyone she knew. Specially the ones who were closer to her; but she couldn’t stay back because of them: she loved herself a little more than she loved them.

She picked up her phone, took out the cover followed by the sim card and lay it gently on the coffee table. They’ll never get to see her again, she thought to herself. But she was used to it by now, all of it. The goodbyes, the pain of leaving, the memories of the people who cared about her; but she could never get enough of the excitement, of the anticipation, of the risks and the possibilities of the future. She touched the mousepad and reached for the inbox that showed a plus one. The first one was the appointment letter for her new job. She smiled, got up picked up her coat from the floor, her keys went inside the bag, and the bag on to her arm and she opened the door. A final glance she took, turning back at the apartment, which resembled the life she was leaving behind and closed the door after her. 

 
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Posted by on November 27, 2016 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Love Truly

A beautiful face with a golden complexion that literally shone in the sun. Hair that could defeat the darkness of the darkest of nights. A body that could be envied by the goddesses. She was perfect. “What do you buy someone who is that perfect?” he asked this middle aged man who stood on the other side of the counter. With a sleek figure, he stood almost in the perfect centre while his eyes ran a marathon across the showcases in the most expensive jewellery shop in the city; a place where one could find the rarest of stones, for the people who were closest to one. He was a decently earning man. Yet he had had to make his wishes wait because the wishes of the people you love always come before your own. “We’re about to close sir!” interrupted the person who had been waiting on him to choose that perfect gift for his perfect wife. “Can I have a few more moments?”, he requested with an expression that was hard to overlook or turn down. “Sure”, he had bought himself a few more moments, but the question remained, “What do you buy someone who is that….. ” there it was. A beautiful necklace that would be highly complimented by his wife’s neck, because nothing, according to him, could possibly compete with his wife’s beauty in his eyes or nearly represent the amount of love that he held in his heart for her. He was delighted, overwhelmed by this beautiful finding of his, that would make his dear Cassy, so happy. He could not keep himself from wanting to call her up and tell her that he’s got something special for her and that she should be ready for it. It had to be special. After all, it was their anniversary. How could he forget. He never did. She might at times because of all the work she had to look after at home and at her office but he, how could he. They had been in love for 2 years before finally getting married and it had been 2 more and oh! How happy he was with her. How he loved her. He just couldn’t think of a life without her.

He completed his transaction and rushed outside; jumped into his car, took out his phone and gave her a call. It rang till it got disconnected automatically. Working at an office isn’t an easy job after all. Why didn’t he think of it earlier! He could give her a surprise. Oh! How happy she would be and how she would blush. The red on her face would shine like the perfect apple from the garden of Eden. The engine roared and he drove off to see his beloved wife and the tyres screeched right before his house in excitement. He jumped off the car and ran to the door and suddenly stopped. All the excitement fading away including the smile from his face. How thoughts play with your emotions. He shrugged off all the negativity that had come upon him and gathered his smile back on his face again, took out a key from his trouser pocket and entered into the house yelling out her name, “Cassy! Cassy! Look what your baby’s got for you!” He heard a noise from his bedroom and shouted out again, “Baby?! Are you in the bedroom?” He heard the bedroom door shut as he was climbing the staircase that led to the section of the house where their bedroom stood with two other rooms out of which one was turned into a small office in which she would spend her time completing the works that she could not complete at the office. He stood right outside the bedroom door, his face white and furious and sad; holding the door knob he asked softly as if hoping to be wrong or wanting to avoid something, “Baby? Are you in there?”. He heard the nervous voice of his voice, “Baby I’m changing, Just 2 minutes.” His head bowed down he waited, as he heard noises coming out of the bedroom until finally the door opened and he saw her. How beautiful she was, how he loved her. She looked tired and out of breath. He took out the necklace out of his coat pocket and gave it to her. She opened it and hugged her out of joy. He held her in his arms, his whole world at once. That was when he saw a man’s watch on his bedside table and he closed his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it off and asked her to get ready for the dinner. She went off with the necklace in her hand as he stared out the bedroom window that overlooked their backyard where he could see a silhouette of a man sneaking out. He stood there with his hands inside his trouser pockets and a heavy heart inside his chest. He just stood there without an expression, without a word or an action, staring out the window. He could not forget happy he was with her. How much he loved her. He just couldn’t think of a life without her.

 
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Posted by on August 30, 2015 in short story

 

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