My Petridish

Imagination is the fire of life…

Tag: Short Story (Page 1 of 2)

Only Regret. Short story

The Only Regret. A Short Story.

Regrets, some of us have them in our lives. I never thought I was capable of regretting, until now. This is a story about the only regret I have.


The only regret.

The curtains rose and fell, wind crept in silently. Taking a slow breath she commented, ‘I like this part of the story. The princess Sati takes action for herself. Brave, isn’t she?’

‘Yes.’ I kept on reading the book. It is a sunny day outside but she can not go out to take a walk, something she loved dearly. Sunday is the only day I get to spend with her. She is so beautiful, my first love. Seeing her in this condition pained me but I had taken it in my hands to take care of her every Sunday. My college friends made fun of me when I refused to go out with them.

She fell from the steps three months ago. Her back was badly hurt, doctors said she will not be able to walk anymore. We didn’t have much money to provide her with the medical care she needed. Since a month she is constantly suffering from viral fever. My mother is a sole earner for my family.

We are left with very less every month after mine and my sister’s college fees. She knew this very well, she knew we couldn’t spend much on her. She was understanding and I was helpless. With my part-time job, I could barely make up for my living expenses in another city. Whenever I can manage I will bring her favorite snacks for her. Today it is Jamun. She loved the salted ones.

I kept the book down and took her hand into my own. They rarely took care of her, they were just so busy. She just lay there in the bed, helpless until someone was free enough to come to her. I was bewildered.

Looking into her eyes and asked her, ‘Do you want to come with me? I will take care of you, I promise. I will talk to Maa & Di.’

‘No. Look after yourself, go on with your studies. Make a wonderful life. Take care of them.’

‘I promise one day, I will take care of you. You deserve so much more.’

Taking her in my arms I cried like a baby. She cried too. She caressed my head and assured me, ‘I am sure you will.’

I left after she had gone to sleep. Very next day I got a call that she had passed away. A pain surged through my body numbing me down to the ground. I cried for all that she had done for me and all that I will never be able to do for her.

Once we lose someone we never get over them. Especially when you have grown up in their arms, listening to the many stories and myths like they were real.

This is the only regret I have. Maybe I will carry it with me to my deathbed.

‘I promise one day, I will take care of you. You deserve so much more.’


I hope you liked the story. Please give it a thumbs up and share it with someone you know. ūüôā

Take care.  See ya ^.^

Found in the wreckage

Found In The Wreckage.

Tales as old as time keep finding its way towards our world like the waves of ocean, eventually crashing against the shores and leaving a hazy trail. One such tale, I found in the wreckage that I thought I would become.

My tiny boat wrecked on the rocks near the beach. The waves saved me, it brought me to the shore. Alive but alone. A week has passed by. It wasn’t tough to survive the island, it was tough to remain alive with the demons that hunted me every single day. How long has it been in this tiny boat that was expected to bring me to my death? I succumbed to my injuries and fainted even before the boat passed across the misty orange clouds of justice. Have I lived past those clouds or am I dead? What brought me here? I’m not sure of all that either. But I heard my people say, “No one survives the sea. Especially not magi people. Sea devours them.”

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I Write. Because You Exist.

I Write. Because You Exist.

Someone must have said this before. Someone must have felt this before. Someone must have written this before. But no matter; I will say it again, I will write it again. I write, because you exist.

You. Yes, You – you changed my world by becoming a part of it. One day, like the unexpected breezy rain, you gushed into my life on the wings of the wind.¬†You shook me gently and woke me from a slumber I didn’t realize I was in. You filled the empty spaces in my heart like pure rain water smoothly runs into the cracks of the river banks and fill up the reservoir for the coming summers. Yet, in the summers you stayed, like a giant oak tree shelters many, you sheltered my lost belief.

Is this love? I kept asking. I told you, “I love you.”

I was frustrated that you never spoke of the love you felt for me. Oh no! I only read it in your actions that spoke to my aching soul. Truth smiled upon me, the beauty of your tranquil love; revived the words in me. Such stupidity you had to endure yet you stayed.

I wrote in vain, I wrote for what it seemed like a century. Maybe, just needed a soul to recognize the tiny voice within me. I turned on the lights to look for something & I found you staring back to me. A wandering soul, I was. You gave me a home. You became part of my adventures. I can still not wrap my mind around how you and I became us.

You saved my words and you nurtured them, even though you didn’t know how to. Maybe you are as clueless as I am. I just want you to know….

 Because You Exist. I will keep on writing.

Born-again-my-petridish

Born Again.

Born Again.

All of a sudden life seemed so different. Looking back, things have changed so much. She can’t go back to what she wanted. Changes came in like the ocean waves, slowly but steadily and she was too busy to notice.

Love. Was that it? If she didn’t love them all, would it be any different? Would she have taken the roads she wanted to take so dearly?¬†People. Some, who broke her heart. Some who cared. Stayed.

Never knew life would change so fast. In ten years she can’t even tell the difference from where she began and where she has come. Ten years flew by in a blink. She had imagined herself elsewhere, how did she end up here?

Was she not willing to take the chances and move forward with herself? Being alone, is that what scares her? Looking back, she didn’t make much of a choice. Sweet talks and loved ones kept her in a cocoon of “what is good for her”. Who was to decide? Who is to say? if not her?

Tired by the shackles of love, she picked up her pen and began to write. Her pen is mightier than any sword. She began going on adventures she only dreamed about. Now, her love is fierce, in her eyes there’s a fire. She met a men, he knew her soul. She fell in love again. The fire in her soul grows stronger by the day.

Being loved for who she was, she became fearless. Like a phoenix, from the ashes of her old life, she was born again. Mighty as the phoenix, her flight has just began. She is the one people write poems and stories about.

When she sees a soul estranged and longing as she once was, she smiles. She whispers, “hang in there and someday, when you believe, you will be born too.”

 

Stardust Wanderer

Stardust Wanderer

“I’ll be back soon.” She said with a kiss on my cheek. This was her last mission in a while. Pretty soon she will be back home and we will be able to spend some crazy time together building the tree house we have been planning for a while. I send her a flying kiss and wave goodbyes.

“Let’s go in.” Gran says. Gran moved to live with us when my mom was assigned for the mission to Mars project team.¬†Mom isn’t allowed to talk about it in details.¬†¬†It’s freezing here. I wonder why mom liked this place so much, maybe its got something to do with her being a biologist of plants. This place’s got nothing but snowy mountain caps in winter for four months and uninvited rains in between, the so-called little summer time. I love this place in Autumn though, the red and yellow of the tree leaves and the bugs that crawl up everywhere.¬† This week¬†I caught a bug when I was playing with Sana near the mountain base. The bug was up in the young Oak tree that we climbed. It had shiny silver wings and Sana was scared of it. We were only ten and Sana’s parents didn’t like her playing with the bugs. Her mother hated it specially when I showed her some bugs I caught. “You shouldn’t be playing with them. They might be harmful. Shuu now, drop it out side and come inside with Sana, the potato wheels are almost baked.” The potato wheels were delicious but I couldn’t find the bug later when I was going home.

I went home and told mom about the silver winged bug. Unlike Sana’s mom’s, my mom’s eyes lit up at the mention of the bug. “Tell me more about it. How did it look? What was it doing? Eating?” She jumped in my bed with a pillow in her hands and started to ask questions. “Umm.. it was a black bug with tiny silver wings, it’s eyes were tiny yellow and it was weird. Oh and it just set there.” “Uuuhumm… The universe is filled with far more wondrous things that we don’t know of Rohan. Tell you what, tomorrow I will lend you my book of bugs and you find the pretty little bugster? When you do, I will treat you to a burger.” The thought of mom’s homemade burger made my mouth water. I bet she already knows what bug is it, she just wants me to work for it. I love our little deals. “Look forward to it. Good night mom.” She kissed my head and wished me goodnight as she closed the door. “Leave it open.” I screamed. “Oops, sorry.” And with that she was gone.

The next day mom had to leave again for her work, it will be months before I see her again. I stat missing her even before she is gone. Mom has this crazy love for the Universe, she seems half mad, genius mad when she talks about the faraway Galaxies and the secret biology they might have. “We are just stardust wanderers. Wondering in the universe, trying to learn more about it, only to become a part of it in our death.” Stardust wanderer! Sometimes I felt I don’t know my mom at all. After breakfast mom left and I got busy with the book. Trying to find the bug. It’s tough with this mammoth of an encyclopedia of bugs. There’s so many of them.

After a few hours gran rings the bells for lunch. It’s 2 PM already? I look outside the window. The poppies I planted in the tiny pot have sprung up, I water them. “Poppies are pretty.” My mom’s voice rings in my head. I shake my head as I run out of our tiny library to the dining room. The amazing smell of gran’s potato stew and herb rice has filled the home. I sit as¬†gran starts making a dish for me. “I am grateful for the food.” I whisper in my playful way before I dig in. My gran looks in my direction with a grand smile on her lips. Suddenly the phone rings. Gran gets up to attend it. She talks for a few seconds then calls for me, “It’s your mom, she has reached.” I take the receiver and her voice pours in, “hey kiddo, so did you find the bug?” “Not yet but wait till I do. You do remember the deal maa?” “Yep. Take care of gran for me. I love you.” Click, clank and that’s a bye.

Me and gran eat in silence. I help gran with the cleaning later and we talk about maa. “She calls herself stardust wanderer, it’s difficult to sum her up like that. She is much more.” ¬†Gran says as she sips the warm jasmine tea. Gran looks like she is talking about someone entirely different than her own daughter. Gran is always scolding maa when she is around. It’s going to be a long time before we see our¬†stardust wanderer.

Crimson Red. White Mornings. Clear Skies

White Mornings. Clear Skies. Crimson Sea.

This is a continuation of my story: Crimson Nights. Starry Skies. Crimson Tides.

You might want to read the first part to better understand the second one. So, here goes.

White Mornings. Clear Skies. Crimson Sea.

“The crimson sea will engulf another life. You will be helpless just like you once were.” The voice in my head became weird as I tried to sleep. The dream where my mother kept screaming for help woke me up several times until early morning when my tired body gave way to some much-needed sleep.

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Crimson Nights. Starry Skies. Crimson Tides.

Crimson Nights, Starry Skies, Crimson Tides.

Crimson nights were the most dreaded nights in our sea-shore village. It was said that when the tides turned red it was an invitation for death. Years ago a diver died because she couldn’t make it above the waters, in the evening the crimson tides covered our shores and no one went to the sea for three days, until the red of the tides went away. My mother died. My father screamed at the sea and at the village head who did nothing to save my mother. They didn’t have choice. When you have to choose to save between your family and others, your hands swiftly move towards your owns first. I dread the crimson tides but I love the seas.¬†

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Fun & Optimism

Ramu’s optimism and his fun life…

It’s a beautiful, rather fun morning, Ramu thought to himself as he opened his eyes and smiled for the first time that day. He looked at wife sleeping beside him, he bent and kissed her good morning before getting out of the bed. Ramu was early as usual, it was still dark outside. He usually woke up early and went for a run in the park nearby his house. Although it was risky these days since there were many vehicles in the morning as well. Ramu left the bedroom and went towards the bathroom to get fresh for his morning run. He forgot to turn on the lights and on his way to the bathroom he hit his head in the bath door. Cursing in a soft voice he turned on the lights and rubbed his forehead. He¬†applied some tooth paste on the brush and turned on the radio, a wonderful morning raga poured out and Ramu hummed along as he brushed his teeth. Soon he was done brushing and slapped his face with some cold water, it woke him up completely. He just loved washing his face with cold water in the morning, a habit his wife disliked naturally. She thought he was mad for liking cold water. Smiling to himself he wiped his face, changed into his track suit and went back to the bedroom.

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Love Simply is.

Love simply is- (Part 2) Just for tonight… I want to forget.

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† Love simply is…. part ii

Before you begin reading this chapter, read the first part of my short story, Love simply is if you haven’t already.


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Curious Case of Mrs. Willoway

Curious case of Mrs. Willoway

Curious case of Mrs. Willoway

I consider myself rather an old man. I take walks sometimes with my neighbor’s pet frizzly bear who they fondly call “Dodo Darling”, I do not find anything dodo-ish or darling about this bear that weights almost 60 kg more than I and I never think about that bear accidentally falling on my poor little back or I’d die even thinking that! It’s not that I am not fond of animals, I just love my life a little more than my neighbors do. I once asked my neighbor why name the bear after a flightless bird of prehistoric times? To which the forest ranger said, “that’s offensive Chaudhury, are you saying this only because my poor Dodo can not fly either? Look at my little darling, she likes you so much she is keeping you healthy by taking you on walks!” That conversation ended once I was made the pet of his pet! “Come on Dodo” I said to the big frizzly bear as we started out for that day’s evening walk.

My home was between the forest ranger’s house being just near the small mountain. Dodo seems to love the black berries growing in the mountain’s foot. There are many jungles here which makes life in the hills pretty much interesting. There’s one school for high-class brats just up the hill but Dodo seems to like few of them too, I blame it on the berried they feed her on their visit to the small town in the mountain’s lap. Once the athlete girl asked if she can ride Dodo to which my obvious answer was no. I did not want an angry bear running after me for letting it in the lose hands and I didn’t know if Dodo would like that since she was a circus bear. Yes, right that’s where Mr. Bakshi had rescued the bear from. The girl tried anyway, Dodo became anxious and the girl was later on admitted to the school hospital for a broken leg. Me and Dodo went to visit her with the pensies that grew well in my experiment garden that season. But this is not story of Dodo, you pensies! Duh, I get offtrack, happens a lot with me these days.

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