Breath - 55 Word Story

She had made her decision. She would take the straight path, no matter what obstacles. She closed her teary eyes, reminiscing the past. Her dreams, their death. First came the tiny steps and then the longer strides. She walked on and on till she could breathe no more. And then the calm sea engulfed her.

Zeal - 55 Word Story

His zeal proved to be his nemesis. He never realized this till it was too late. Looking at her naked body, he remembered the crazy passion he had given it. Now it lay next to his feet, bloodied and dead. He had hacked her to pieces. She had dared to share it with another woman.

Clothes Unbecometh You

Women and clothes go hand in hand, or rather hand in wallet. We have money, we buy clothes. We do not have money, we still buy clothes. And most of us will buy anything that the malls/designers/non designers/stores/roadside-vendors wish to sell and fleece us out of every paisa we have on us.

So let me start with my favorite gut wrenching, heart killing and breath stopping kinda look. Animal prints. No, no, no. I know they look good sometimes. But not all the time. Not when a woman wears tight, red jeans and leopard print, figure hugging top which shows off her ample bosom (Yes guys, I know you are imagining this now!) and her fabulous, well endowed round stomach. Not when she wears a black top and combines it with tiger printed or cat pawed leggings/jeggings or whatever INGS it is. (I have still not fathomed the difference between all these lowers and I don't care to find out.) When I see someone wear such clothes all I want to do it close my eyes and forget about the 'fox pass'. For, it scares the shit out of me. And then I imagine her jumping onto me like a leopard and it scares crazier shit out of me!

And then I wish to tell you about this 'aunty' living in my apartment, who made such a hue and cry just because we called her aunty. Not that she is too old. She must be 6 or 7 years older to me. But then, I cannot help it if she looks like 'aunty' and I don't, right? Now the problem with such people is that they love to dress young. Her clothes are at least two sizes smaller. Tight. And claustrophobic. I sometimes wonder if they will tear off the seams and fall off. Not that anyone would want that, but I still wonder. And then I have to bear looking at her pass by me every single day. Wearing tights or shorts or skirts combined with plunging neck tops. Ah poor me! My eyes feel the torture every single moment, while my lips have to keep smiling and my brain has to remember not to call her 'aunty'.

Now girls in their twenties are not too far off from such idiosyncrasies. Could someone please inform them that fashion is not about wearing stupid clothes. Even if you are the hottest chick in town. Like I came across this hot, sexy, beautiful girl. At first I didn't notice anything amiss. Well dressed, perfectly manicured hands and perfectly fake make-up. But things went wrong once she passed by me and walked ahead of me. I almost faltered and fell off the footpath! I actually kept staring at her ass wondering if something was wrong with my eyes. After a few stares and glances I realized that I had seen it right. There was a zip at the back of her trousers, right on her butt crack. Like what! Why there?! I really have no clue. If this is fashion, I am better off wearing my normal jeans and tee and still looking hotter (and smarter) than her.

My only wish when I come across such pathetic fashion, is that I had the power to burn off all these horrific clothes and bring peace to this world.

Remains - 55 Word Story

She lay in bed thinking about him. He was no more in the world. She lost the track of time. Hours passed without her moving out of bed. Phone-rings did not bother her. And then, she jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. Puking incessantly. He remained in her. His baby living inside.

For old times sake..

shimmering reflections of a lost moment;
trying to catch the sunshine;
who owns these eyes?

lost in the fragrance of the look you last gave me;
i walk on in my own desert;
with parched throat and weak conscious,
aware that thee is a tomorrow;
that i shall reach an oasis,
that the albatross doesnt rove the desert...........

brown sand of a missed sensuality;
your eyes--teach me to dream;
when passing through the narrow hell of solitude;
of a brilliant heaven,
scripsy fallacies of some ancient philosophy;
they rain life...... 

Deip