AnuKathaa

This is the last story of 2018 I wrote for the 12 Short Stories site. After trying different ideas on for size, this one popped up out of nowhere...let me know what you thought of it... Rajaram strolled through the fair, watching the hawkers market their wares. The huge playground that wore a desolate look on normal days had come to life for this annual event in the tiny village of Gopalpur. Women haggled with the vendors over trinkets. Men stood cheering around the wrestling ring where two sturdy youngsters battled it out. The village kids crowded near the play area, awaiting their turn on the merry-go-round. Rajaram’s wife Meena was busy looking at necklaces inside a tent, so he had wandered out for a while after giving her enough money to buy what she liked. An old man sitting outside the nearby tea shop beckoned to Rajaram, and he went closer. “There’s something special about you. Show me your hand,” the old man demanded, and before Rajaram could react, he grabbed his right ha

The South Africa based writers group of which I'm a part, conducts a short story competition towards the end of every year. Writers from across the world participate. This year, I decided to try my hand, too. Aaannddd...guess what? Somehow, I ended up as one of the runners-up!!! And, please, no, the prize is not for my 'Guddi' story, that so many readers found unpalatable.  This is a different one, and the prompt was "The Cottage". So, here's the story I wrote. As usual, I'm waiting to hear how you found it! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I smoothed out the notes and arranged the coins and counted them yet again. Fifty rupees only. Definitely not enough to get back home as early as my mother demanded. I walked out of the hostel room, and found myself knocking Ranga’s door. “What’s the matter with you?” asked Ranga at once. “My grandfather is seriously ill. Amma wants me to come immediately. But you know, my financial situation…” “Hey, don’t worry,

This is the story I wrote for November. Prompt: Leftovers l Word Count: 500 words exactly “Good evening, sir. Here’s your pizza. Happy Diwali!” he said, pasting a broad smile on his face, injecting a note of enthusiasm into his tired voice, as he held out the cardboard box. “Oooh, the pizza is here,” squealed a sweet voice, and he saw a girl, not much older than his Guddi, doing a little jig. He felt icy hands clasp his heart once more. Diwali evening should have been spent with his Guddi, lighting lamps and bursting crackers, instead of delivering food to customers who couldn’t be bothered to cook dinner. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had a few minutes before he was called up to ferry the next food package. Rushing through traffic, he made his way to the playground where crackers were being sold. Everything was so damn expensive these days. But no compromise when it came to Guddi’s joy. He picked a few boxes of her favourite varieties of crackers – the mild sparklers

Of late, I've been reading more of Agatha Christie 's novels. So, when the prompt for this month's short story was "The Robbery" I decided to try and tell a simple story, focusing on a crime and its resolution. To add a little more emotion, I thought I'd weave in some romance, too. The result is this story titled "The Missing Necklace"  Prompt: The Robbery    Word count: 1500 words exactly I tossed the newspaper onto my desk, and cursed these astrology experts.   ‘Get ready to rebuild! Your ruling planet Jupiter arrives in Taurus for the first time since 1993, helping you attract new people into your orbit ,’ was predicted for me. Huh! It was 11 o’clock on a Thursday, and not one client had entered my new ‘Alpha Detective Agency’ office. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to a young man in his late twenties. “I’d like to see Mr. Gaurav,” he said. “I’m Gaurav. Come inside. Please sit down, would you like a glass of water?” “No,

Story for this month.  Prompt: Delete   Word count: 1250 words “I’m here… to …see… Ms. Verma,” the deep voice stuttered. Rakesh looked up from his computer screen. “May I have your name, please?” “Puja.” Rakesh did a doubletake. From the voice, the muscles, the baggy pants and loose-fitting T-shirt, he’d assumed the visitor to be male. The name clearly indicated it was a woman. She pretended not to notice his reaction and stared stoically ahead at nothing in particular.  Calm before the storm , thought Rakesh, for no particular reason. Gathering his wits, Rakesh took Puja into Ms. Leela Verma’s office, did the introductions, and fled, eager to get back to that article he’d been reading online about his favourite cricketer. A few hours later, it was time to go home, but the visitor hadn’t left. Rakesh sighed, cleared up his desk, and took a few moments to delete his browsing history. No point in letting Ms. Verma realize how he’d been spending part of the afternoon.

The prompt for this month's story was "I never knew." Pretty simple and straightforward, and definitely easy to write about. And then, one of the writers on our writer's group came up with an idea that suddenly made it very challenging.  She suggested that writers who wanted to push themselves, must: Write in the first person (narrate the story saying, "I...") Use the future tense !! ("I will...") Incorporate a twist at the end... The narrator must be Marilyn Monroe !! There was no compulsion to take up the additional challenge, but I couldn't resist the thought of taking it up. Besides, I anyway had no other ideas, so let me go with this writer's suggestions, I decided.  As the decision took root, Google helped research the topic, and after 3 hours of frenetic writing, here's the story I came up with.  It's designed like the excerpts from a diary of the star, and of course, heavily fictionalized. If reading

The prompt for this month's story was simple: Cats and Dogs Word count was very low too : 300 words only And yet, no inspiration struck. Probably because (new realization) my love for animals does not extend beyond the boundary of the homo sapiens variety. As I sat with my son watching the FIFA World Cup semi-final between England and Croatia, a part of my mind fretted over not having a single story idea even worth considering. I even began thinking along the lines of how the sky wouldn't collapse if I failed to post a story this time. But the Universe had other plans, I suppose. For, when I woke today morning, it was with the thought of a story that seemed write-able. I suppose I should be saying thank you to FIFA ....... Soni's Smile Soni toyed with the food on his plate. “Cats,” called Seema. “And dogs,” whispered Soni. “Eat,” said Seema, and watched her son Soni tuck into his breakfast with gusto. Seema sighed. 368 days since that fateful accident. The one that took

This story was written in a hurry. An hour and a half before the deadline, to be precise. Any plot holes you may point out will be blamed on this by the writer.  Enough warning - time to get reading :-)                                                              xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Prompt:Forbidden Places l Word Count: 1800 words  The shrill ring of the phone jolted Neha out of her reverie. A calm voice asked, “Is this Mrs. Arora?” “Yes, I’m Neha Arora. Who’s calling, please?” “I’m the receptionist from the Sanjeevani Medical Centre. One of your older medical reports is missing from our file, Mrs. Arora. You know how particular we are about our records. So, Dr. Devi wanted to know if you’ve carried it away with you after your consultation with her yesterday.” “Oh, I see. I’m rushing somewhere right now. Can I check and call you back later?” “Ok. Please be quick, Mrs. Arora. You know it’s against the hospital rules to have patients take away their medical records.” “Oh,

Dear readers, A good friend of mine, Saiswaroopa Iyer, is releasing her 3rd novel "Mauri" on the 9th of June, 2018. Sai's stories explore the lesser known stories of the timeless epics of India, from the perspectives of strong female protagonists.  Here's a sneak preview into what to expect from this book.  About Mauri She wanted to kill the man who others called a God. Love is but an obstacle in her path With her father’s death shattering her world, Mauri is torn away from everything she had once loved. Anger replacing every emotion within her, she seeks only one thing. To kill her father’s killer. Even if the man is none less than Krishna Vaasudeva, the man who people worshipped as a God! Someone stands in the way, reining in her bitterness when she is the least prepared for it. The Rakshasa Prince Ghatotkacha! But by the time love sprouts within her, Mauri has gone too far in her thirst for vengeance. Can Mauri save herself and Ghatotkacha before t