This blog is more about making photographs than taking photographs and about writing short fictional and microfiction stories. I hope you will enjoy the posts.
Showing posts with label sad story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad story. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
far away...!!!
Labels:
absence,
far away,
long distance relationship,
love,
Microfiction,
sad story,
tear,
very short story,
why,
word
Monday, April 13, 2015
true LOVE
true LOVE
Anjali
gave him a diary to write and Victor gave her a pen. He didn’t like the concept
of writing diary about his own life, so he started asking her questions about
her bucket list, her dreams, her favorite dish, fruit, color, actor, actress, movie,
her each and every like and dislike and every night Victor secretly wrote it in
the same diary. They both loved each other more than anything in this world and
even beyond.
It
was Anjali’s birthday today. Obviously, he was the first one to wish her. They saw
a movie, went for a long drive, and, to Anjali’s surprise, Victor had planned a
party for her. All of her friends were already there. Everything was perfect,
and she loved it. They laughed, danced, kissed and ejoyed every moment of
today, like it was their last day together. But after all, he was a boy, and
how can a boy do something without making any mistakes. He had forgotten the
gift, the gift which she had especially asked from him. She remembered it but chose
to ignore it, because he had done a great job today and she was very happy. Perhaps
it was the best day of her life. Her parents had also met him today and they
too liked him. Now she was sure that it was him, her true love her future life
partner. Before going to bed, she thanked her god, because she couldn’t have
asked for a better life than this one. She slept with tears in her eyes; these
were the tears of happiness.
But
from the very next day, everything changed, because Victor was changed. He behaved
like a different person. He stopped picking her calls, didn’t reply to her
texts and never showed her his face again. Perhaps he had ditched her without
even telling her a reason. But Anjali, she didn’t give up on him. She kept on
trying. She was hurt. She prayed, tried and cried but nothing worked. She met Victor’s
parents, they were nice people and they treated her very well but couldn’t do
anything to help her out. They told her that Victor had left this city. She was
left with so many unanswered questions, broken promises and endless pain. Her
true love had felt her empty. How could he do this to her? How could she forget,
the moments they had spent together, the promises Victor had made? Love is
tough to find and tougher to forget. But time is the biggest healer and eventually
the time passed. Anjali found a new friend. Ravi was nice person and he cared
for her. Anjali was not a person who would lie or keep secrets, so she told him
everything. She even told him that somewhere she still missed Victor but she
would never return to him for what he had done to her. Ravi too accepted her
with her past.
Today
they were marrying. In her red designer lehnga, Anjali was looking like an
angel. Ravi also looked great in his black Armani suit. Then, somewhere in the
crowd of her relatives and known ones, Anjali saw the glimpse of Victor’s
parents, but they didn’t appear again. Suddenly all those feelings were alive
again. She wanted to run away from this marriage and ask them about Victor.
Later
in the evening while they were opening gifts, Anjali found an unnamed packet. It
had the same pair of anklets which she had asked from Victor for her birthday. It
confused her. Few days later, Ravi received a courier in his office; there was the
same diary and a letter in it. Perhaps she would never know what Victor had done before his death.
==================================================================
“Just because a
Relationship ends, it doesn’t mean that two people stopped loving each other,
perhaps it’s ended because they cared too much for each other.”
Friday, February 27, 2015
I felt free.
I felt free.
Being an acrophobic, today I had conquered one of my worst
fears. Standing on the outer edge of window, I felt free. I was not afraid; not
even from the thought of dying. Infact I had never enjoyed the view of Juhu beach,
this much before. I had a 2 BHK flat on 8th floor, in upper Juhu, South
West Mumbai. I worked with a world renowned consulting firm and was living with
one of my colleague, who happened to be my classmate as well. At this height, the
air was pollution free, atleast I felt so. Vehicles looked no different than tiny
toys, and were unable to disturb my internal tranquility. People appeared
like ants, running without purpose. It perceived very similar to a mute movie
scene or perhaps a dream.
It was quarter past six and I knew my flatmate would be
arriving anytime now. I had written a long letter to thank everybody who were
or had once held an important position in my life. I had even forgiven my boss
who was never good to me and asked sorry from girlfriend for being bad to her. I
had also written that how much I had loved my family and missed them.
Taking this decision was not easy; it took me almost three
months to decide. I had tried every single way get out of that mess but failed.
Even my flatmate had developed a slight doubt about what I was planning, and
for the same reason he never left me alone, always picked me from my office or
asked me and called me at around 5’o clock to make sure that I was in my
office.
I had finalized it last night and had also switched off my
mobile in the morning itself. Today I had not gone to my office and instead, I enjoyed
my last day. I watched a movie, eat sea food and even got a tattoo on my arm, which
was of course painful. And then, I heard a knock on the door, my flatmate was
here. He knocked restlessly. The door bell had gone mad. While all tangible
things in my reach, the broken window pane, abraded paintwork and dust under my
feet were making it clear, the concerned physical aspect of me wondered if this
was just a dream. We both were struggling, my flatmate to break the door and I,
to make sense out of this. A loud thud on the door and I was dazzled by the bright
light. My arm was still sore.
Labels:
acrophobic,
away,
family,
fear of height,
flatmate,
friend,
girlfriend,
juhu beach,
life,
miss,
Mumbai,
sad story,
short story,
suicide,
window
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