Keep The Money

Word count: 100

Written for the Rochelle Weisoff Fields’ Friday Fictioneers

Photo Prompt Copyright: Copyright – Claire Fuller

His consummate fingers ran through the tyre and nailed the culprit. Deftly removing the nail, tightly nestled inside the tyre, he sealed the puncture.

With grease all over his patched shirt, buttons missing, trouser too short to cover his knees, the 10-something year old was too cold and frigid for his age. Felt like helping him and gave him a few coins.

“I am not a beggar mam, i take only what’s mine.

“Take it. Consider me as you as you elder sister.”

"I am an orphan. I don’t know what it’s like to have a sister.  Keep the money."

Choice

"It's pitch dark outside; seems to be a forest.”

Ragini could hear her heart beat violently against her chest. It was now or never for her. The tyre couldn’t have chosen a better time to get punctured. Somewhere, behind the bushes she heard a tiger roar. Time was running out of her hands. She had a choice to make: become a wild’s animal prey and have her body torn apart, or be a prey to her kidnapper’s animal instinct and have her dignity torn into pieces.

Ragini jumped out of the car and ran toward the jungle wiping away her tears.

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

Books A Blessing In Disguise

She was an island unto herself;
Utterly self-contained, and happy to be so;
Her books gave her the best company.
Drinking in the smell of old books and new;
She read, wrote and edited, hours on end.
She felt blessed to be a bibliophile.
With just three of her faculties functioning; life had indeed been fair to her;
For thinking of a life beyond books was quite unimaginable.
And thankfully her paralysis had brought her closer to her books; like never before.

 She’s busy penning a romantic novel these days;

And hopes the book make it to the bestseller list. 

Write Tribe's Wednesday Prompt: The Smell Of Old Books

So you think you know it all!

Arun did a double take on Priya.

"What was that huge blue mark on her right arm?

A tattoo mark or something else?"

He knew her to be a submissive daughter, a loving sister to her only bro, a voracious reader, a simple next-door-girl who confided in him her innermost secrets.

"Then, what explains that tattoo mark?
She never told me about this. Why?"

With a raised eyebrow, Priya looked at Arun and let out that so-you-think-you-know-it-all grin, lazed heavily with sarcasm.

A mischievous smile played on her lips

"Was it an indication she was no more interested in me?"    

Prompt: So you think you know it all from Jairam Mohan

I knew it was my last day there

I knew it was my last day there.

I had enough of this office.

Damn with the paper work, damn with the boss, damn with the colleagues, damn with the place;

There’s was no sense of right and wrong here.

It was better to leave than stay here.

Cuss words jammed my throat; humiliation still raw;

But my self-worth, my self-worth went rolling downhill.

I felt helpless; cried my heart out.

After two days of rigorous job search, I landed up with yet another decent job.

Rightfully, when one door closes, another opens.

My lost faith restored; my self-worth resurrected.

Love Blooms With Time

Hi Max, 

Here I am sharing with you something which I had already shared with you some time ago. So, I’ve nothing new to disclose; no secrets to share. 

Then why share at all? What purpose is it going to serve?

Yeah! You are right. It won’t serve any purpose in particular. But just by opening my heart here you’ll get to know that whatever little I shared with you was just a part of the whole.

So here go my some unshared feelings…

Yeah! It’s true when you came to see me for the first time, your cuddly-bear-physique had put me off. You didn’t look your best that day.

"A case of pot calling a kettle black?"

Okay! Fine!

But aren’t people attracted to their polar opposites? 

And I admit that I kept looking for ways and means to get rid of your marriage proposal, so much so that I proposed to one of the guys in college. But my dream boy had another dream girl in his life.

Hopes hammered. Desires reached a dead end.

And unfortunately with no bakra(sacrificial lamb) in sight I had no choice but to say yes to your proposal. And suddenly on our day of engagement I was so head over heels over you. Yes, you looked ultra- fabulous that day. In fact, I would term the word fabulous as an understatement. I know, I know I looked ultra-ugly that day with all that over done make-up and all. But what I want to admit here is that I fell for your looks on our day of our engagement.  

Yeah! Initially we were like two ferocious lions sharing the same den. Our egos, misgivings, insecurities, and complexes had taken over our lives completely, so much so that we overlooked each other feelings. In fact,"my way or the highway,” become the unwritten, unspoken rule of our lives. And I admit I made the most of it by going the highway.

Nonetheless, despite the negative omens, despite our misgivings, despite the naysayers, despite we-told-you-so relatives, despite you-should-have-married-my-daughter aunties, despite you-would-get-a-better-match friends, despite our inherited anger and stubbornness, despite my dark-complexion, despite my short stature, our marriage survived. Woohoo!, this month we completed nine years of our married life. Probably God’s sweetest gift to us in the form of Aryan helped us fight through the toughest phases of our lives.

Today, when I look back, everything we did, every argument we had seems so childish and immature. 

Now, I can’t think of a life beyond you. It’s you who make my life complete.

Your Angry Women

P.S. Btw you know, I've mellowed down a lot these days.

  The prompt for this fortnight was to write a letter to :
 Your current love/ spouse/ crush or Your ex-love/ spouse / crush.