Tale teller

CONTENT WARNING : This post contains mature themes and is intended for an older youth audience . Viewer discretion is advised . 1.  The Stalker . “I never had an idea that this could be such a fun,” she exclaimed as she washed off the blood from the knife. “Yeah, we must do it more often,” he said chewing the heart of her stalker. 2. The Photograph . Staring at her photograph, he repeated regretfully, “I love you, please come back. Somehow!” Suddenly, something whispered into his ears – “Why  didn't  you say this to me, when I was alive?” 3. The Skin Tone . She screamed out looking at her husband’s burnt face. “Ssshh…,” he said grimly, “Look at me dear; just look what I did for you! Now, even I am of dark color. No longer shall people talk about our color differences.” 4. The Betrayal . “I want to confess something to you,” he said keeping the coffee mug on the table and wiping the remains of coffee on his  mustache . “What is

[January 01, 2016] [9:00 PM] We were close to each other; closer than ever. Her eyes, closed down, were the proof that she made her heart win over her brain. I too clenched my eyes and touched her forehead with mine. I felt her warm breath over my lips. Those breaths of her were mine. Our tight hug told each other that our hearts were pounding. Her clutch became much firm and nails of her tried to pierce through my denim shirt, which she gifted me yesterday; my New Year’s gift. I opened my eyes and looked at her red rosy lips, perfectly wedged and beautifully carved by the God. My lower lip shivered, slowly pulled itself closer to her and I drifted my head to push my lips over her upper lip. She didn’t respond. Maybe she was still fighting inside, deciding between the yes and no. Her steadiness shaped my thoughts- ‘she is still confused’, and I, somehow, started to withdraw myself. But, as soon as the lip touch loosened from my side, her lips opened and arrested my mouth. It was

“Come back. Please. Somehow,” he muttered. Maybe he forgot that memories never reply. Memories just remind us what once we had. Memories, for us, are the assets but for him, were the heaviest liability. Picture of his beloved vanished as he opened his eyes and watched the reality which his heart always denied but, as usual, mind won the war and made him to believe; she is no more. Several years ago she left him without a prior notice; maybe death was in haste. That day he locked himself in his room, cried, wept, yelled, and broke the vase and after some hours he wiped his face with his injured palm and unlocked the door. His elder sister exhaled a sigh of relief that he unlocked the door. Little did she know that something has been locked inside forever! His mother, seeing his wounded palm, ran towards him and pressed a cloth over the cut. Little did she know that something inside is bleeding and shall bleed forever. “Is that paining?” mother asked. “No, it’s alright,” he lied

Wife lifted herself and looked deep into the eyes of her loving husband. He was the only person who knows exactly, how to treat her, how to comfort her and how to love her. She knew it well that her husband never liked to hear the stories or talks about Deva, but for the sake of her smile he always listened to her. But she was now required to answer, so she calmed herself and started telling that why she didn’t met her best friend. “He was at the flower shop,” she started, arranging all the incidents in her memory, she sounded firm, she continued, “few steps away, holding flowers in his hand. At first it seemed he hasn’t noticed me so I started walking rapidly towards him. I wanted to surprise him. Several thoughts rushed into my head. I was staring him, trying to notice what all had changed in him during these eight years. He has buffed up! He is no longer thin like those old days.” Sanjeev was listening to his wife very carefully and in his imagination, he picturized everything t

In a market, after eight years, they crossed each other. In that crowd she didn’t notice him. It was then her six years old daughter who saw him and at once pulled her momma's sari and claimed, "Momma, he looks like the same guy in your college album, your best friend."                                                 She looked down to her child and asked politely, “What is it my dear?” “Momma,” said her excited daughter pointing towards the flower shop, “Over there, that uncle, your best friend!”                                                                                                                                                 The word ‘best friend’ stroked her and at once she lifted her head and hasted her eyes. But at the very moment, she was all blank. She didn’t even know what to look for. So restless she became. That single word made her so impatient. It was such a helpless situation, but then her eyes fell upon the guy in black suit, selecting