Pikku : The Storyteller 👧

As he was seeing off Kalpesh ji, Suraj could feel the feverish warmth of his breath on his upper lip. Back in the room, he sat down on the sofa completely exhausted. Then he slowly turned to look at the bundle of crispy bank notes kept on the table. Four lakh rupees. The advance payment for the house that he was sitting in. He blinklessly looked at the walls, that had never before caught such a long attention. The walls hid several memories under several coats of paint. He remembered how his mother took a fake revenge on the wall, when he as a toddler accidently got hit in head. He remembered how his father had yelled at him on doing maths rough work on the wall. He was affectionately looking at those very walls when Tanu called him, softly placing her hand on his shoulder, "Suraj!! Suraj!!" He abruptly came out of the daydream and looked at Tanu, with his wobblingly transparent eyes. Tanu too was broken, but she knew that emotionally consoling Suraj at this moment would actu...

Extremely sorry for not being able to upload a proper short story this month. But here is something for you all. These are my answers to two different story related questions on "Quora". Hope you enjoy it. Ques 1. Tell me some 3-4 line stories with a twist. S he shot him once, he smiled. She shot him twice, he smiled. She shot him again and again, he smiled. Finally she declared, "Enough. Now your turn to shoot me." and handed him the camera. ***

[Disclaimer: The incident is purely fictitious and is not intended to hurt one's feelings. It is an imagination of the author, inspired from some real elements of societal structure.] "After he mends the tap and goes, sprinkle some gangajal in the house. Ok?" Pandit Birjes Prasad said to his wife after his telephonic conversation with Raghu. His wife okayed. Sadhna, his daughter, handed him, his gamchha . In his kurta pajama, he kick-started his bike, wrapped the gamchha around the face and zoooom!! he rode away. The partial unlock had eased the conditions for him. It was not that he had followed the guidelines strictly during the lockdown, however now he had not to worry about the crossroad checkpoints. His son, Suraj, had come from Mumbai couple of days ago and today he was en route to a yajman's house to fetch some advance payments of committed rituals. "Couldn't you ask him for online transfer? Why on Earth is he coming home?" Ritu was furious. ...

What do you think is more desirable- a necklace or its box? Well if you ask me, I would say, "Depends."  Here is a story that shows how... "Your Sahab has brought for me a multi slot jewellery box. So, I have emptied these old little boxes. You can take them, if you like." Ratna said to Sarla while fixing a pin to her own pallu, standing in front of the mirror. Her diamond necklace was adding glamour to her royal blue silk saree. "All of these?" Sarla asked in surprise while her eyes were stuck only to that maroon velvet box, with golden lace all around. That box seemed very costly and Sarla made up her mind to keep in it, the locket that she had thought to gift her daughter on her marriage. Thus, while there were half a dozen boxes on the bed, she unintentionally kept her hand on that very box. "No, not this one Sarla. It is this necklace's box." Ratna said in a tone that was serious but not harsh, while scrolling her fingers on the necklace...

As Chinmay entered the house, the aroma of incence sticks filled his breath with the holiness of Mogra. It was then that he realised, he still had his slippers on. Biting his tongue, he quickly reversed and put off his slippers, rubbed his sole on the welcome mat and went in like he just entered. "Asha (the maid) just cleaned the floor, Cheenu!!" taunted Dadi, who had just come out of her kitchen with a bowl in her hand. "I have put my slippers off Dadi" he tried to allay her doubts, sneakingly peeping into the bowl. "After coming in with them?" Dadi roasted. Chinmay was blank, "Ok Sorry. Last time.", he apologised like a child. Dadi giggled and said, "Okay fine. Come. Take this." and she gave him the prasad from the bowl . "What a fragrance, Dadi!!" He exclaimed as he spread his hands for the prasad. "It's Mogra. My favourite." Dadi's grin clarified as to how much she liked the fragrance, and then she adde...

Kallu, the blacksmith, sat beside his earthen furnace completing some orders of the village. The Pradhan had placed a big order, that would take days to complete, even on working till late night. An echo filled the atmosphere everytime he hit his heavy hammer on the iron piece. Tannnnnn. Tannnnnn. While the loud banging noise was disturbing almost everyone, Summiya was too stunned to even sense the sound. Sitting beside the handpump in her kuchcha house, Summiya washed the 4 inches long nail wound on her neck with water and threw some water on her face to wash away the adamant tears. She then put her hand upto the elbow into the bucket to sooth the burn on the forearm. She wiped her face and pressed the wound with the pallu held as a lump, to dry it.  "Ah!" she sighed in pain and another isolated tear flowed through her cheek. She didn't wipe the burn though, the water was as relaxing as was the thought that she could successfully stop Manku from doing what he wanted. She...

Dear reader, This month I present to you a story that I wrote in 2017 for a short story competition of "Times of India". The task and criteria were given by author Ashwin Sanghi. One of the criteria was to write the story in first person. Yes, I didn't win. But hope you will shower your love on this old effort of mine. T hat night seemed to be the darkest one. It was a devastating scene to see my soldier husband die before me in his crimson turned white shirt and cream trousers soaked in mud, red at knees. The Labefaction gang had shot him for he had been successful in his investigations on them and was going to disclose the name of the only soldier who linked them to the information of army.   He couldn’t say a word. The only thing he did was that he pointed ‘Allahabad’ in a large map of India hung beside the mantelpiece. I could easily interpret what he said. He told me to escape to Allahabad with our 6 years old Vicky. I did so. Even today I feel how could I do th...