An Equal Mother

Write Over the Weekend theme for this week:

This time we’re having at a mother’s day special! Your post must contain the word ‘MOM’ and you have just 5 sentences to complete your story.

‘Happy Birthday, Mom,’ Shruti had a glimmer of smile light up her face as Aanya was approaching her.

Her smile faded into oblivion as Aanya walked past her towards her mother’s portrait, like she usually did each year.

Shruti has been yearning to be addressed as ‘Mom’ while raising her dead twin Smriti’s daughter Aanya for the past ten years.

While Aanya’s father has moved on from his dead wife to her attractive twin sister, Aanya could not accept Shruti who looked like her mom but didn’t smell equally divine.

Shruti decided to wait for Aanya, ageing with her dead sister on the wall.

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

When Silence Roars

(Inspired by the movie Lootera [2013])

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The snow-clad tree stood tall braving the blizzard,

for it had promised its last leaf to me, and you.

Silence has always been the bridge between us – me,

the princess and you, her knight in shining armour.

I chirped like a true Pakhi, the myna or magpie,

while you listened draped in a shawl of intent.

Now, my voice is miffed by blood and dread,

while you rant away chasing to hold the life in me.

Ours is a story of pain and love, where I

bare myself in words, and you express

When you say nothing at all.

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

Fine Line of Desire

Ira was not feeling guilty being caressed by another man. He was an old friend she had always liked. He might become her soul mate with time, who knows!

The husband had blasted her with the fact that he liked another man. After six months of marriage.

Ira felt her friend come closer, wanting to make a move. She too was aroused, by the scent of his presence.

Something metallic fell off the inside pocket of his jacket with a clang as he pondered over.

Ira picked it up. It was her husband’s silver tie-pin.

She had lost track of the cheat sheet. The vicious cycle was up and running.

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When The Twain Met..

Mimi was gazing through her office window towards a lip-smacking summer sunset in Calcutta. She was ruing over her date planned with Soham that evening beside the Ganges. It had to be cancelled.

Her baba had called to come back home early. Being over-possessive, he disapproved of every guy she dated. Ma, had expired.

Soham hadn’t been able to impress baba the few times they met, despite Mimi hoping otherwise.

There was a power cut in the area as she approached home dejectedly. Entering inside with her set of keys she found them both, her baba and beau prattling along over tea and samosas.

She loved summer now, more than ever.