Raining fire

A second between life and death


[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, inspired by certain tales of gallantry]

An year shy of half a century. Nearly fifty years ago, on this day, it was raining fire and blood on the treacherous passes of the Pir Panjal range. That day, in the midst of the ungodly blizzard of bullets and brutal weather, our lives took a turn none of us had anticipated. No, that won’t be right. Only my life took a turn; for the other two, it ended. No words can capture the seething undercurrents of emotion that haunts the survivors – the ones who won the war, yet lost everything.

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Life, pictured


It has been a hard day. That isn’t something new though. This sweltering heat has only made things harder. People don’t seem to be very helpful these days. Everyone is concerned about their own well being. But then again, I have learned that it is the norm. The uncertainty in my life is shocking sometimes. You have no idea how long I have to keep roaming around till I get enough for the day.

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The lunch


Little Amy couldn’t wait for the lunch break to start. Her Mom had prepared her favourite dishes for her. She opened her lunch box as soon as the bell rang. The aroma of the assorted non-veg platter was quite tempting . It was all she could not to drool over. God! How she hated eating vegetables!

A few blocks away from the school, Anne and her friends were having lunch in the office cafeteria. As she picked up a spoonful of beetroot curry, she couldn’t help but chuckle imagining Amy’s reaction when she finds the hidden vegetable curry beneath the rice.


This is a work of fiction (well, not entirely..this author has gone through similar situations. Several times.), written for the Write Tribe 100 words on Saturday prompt “She had the last laugh”.

By the way, who, do you think had the last laugh here? Amanda? Or Anne? 😉

The helping hand

The helping hand


A delirium. Total confusion. It was supposed to be a mellifluous melody gently wafting in, ever so slowly nudging one awake from the slumber. Instead, it was a barrage of high energy noise – albeit in rhythm, like the crescendo of a power ballad. Each beat felt like a pummelling by a pugilist. After a couple of failed attempts to cut out the cacophony by pulling the sheets over his head, Aravind sat up and rubbed his bleary eyes. Instinctively, he took his mobile and checked the time. 7:45 a.m. – still fifteen minutes to his third alarm.

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Sunset over the Vembanad lake

Sunset over Vembanad lake – photo


Call me lazy. Perhaps it is another bout of ‘ideas running dry’. Or the realization that the year is finally winding down. Maybe because I haven’t shared a photo recently? Now that I’ve got enough excuses laid down, here’s a picture of the Sun setting over the Vembanad lake.

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Kids running along a beach

The free bird


Mind – arguably the most powerful, yet mysterious conundrum of nature. My mind takes me on fascinating journeys at times. On this lazy Saturday, I have been lying on my back on the sands of the Marina beach, seeing nothing but flocks of birds flying past. Like a video clip put on a loop, the birds kept coming. My mind kept humming the Lynyrd Skynyrd staple, Freebird. It’s been long since I visited Chennai. I remember coming here long back, for my cousin’s wedding. Now, years later, back again to fulfil a forgotten rendezvous with my longtime friend, Ramanathan.

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