A Winding Road

He was driving down the winding road. It was almost after fifteen years that he was going back to the place from here he had come to seek his destiny.

‘It’s no use being unselfish; it never pays in this amoral world. I wish I had been brought up differently. It was stupid of me; I should have known that they could backstab. I ought to have been cautious and………selfish.’

He was lost in such thoughts when a car tried to overtake him from the wrong side. He realized only in the nick of time that his car could be knocked away from the road. Instinctively he swerved a bit and applied the brakes to avoid a possible collision.

‘Is it foolish to be moral?’ he asked himself, almost loudly. He heard no reply and reluctantly he restarted the car.

‘Will this winding road ever end?’

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A post for Three WordWednesday

Word prompts- winding, unselfish, amoral

Taxi Driver

It was a cold night; air was thick and dense. The train was late. It should have reached by half past eleven. But it was past one when it reached his destination.

Very few passengers got down from the train. He rushed out of the station. But not even one taxi was available. He was getting desperate; he had to reach his office before eight in the morning. It was five hours drive to his home.

Out of nowhere a man, with a large scar on his face, confronted him, ‘Taxi?’

He was unnerved and was tempted to say no but said, ‘Yes.’

‘Double the fare.’

‘Why?’

‘Not safe to drive at this hour.’

‘Why?’

‘Goons……wild animals………even ghosts.’

He was about to decline the offer but the urgency of reaching office compelled him to agree.

They would have driven for about thirty minutes when a police jeep overtook them. Driver stopped and abruptly left the taxi and vanished.

‘It’s a stolen Taxi,’ the police officer barked. He looked brutal.

‘No, I hired it.’

‘I don’t see the taxi driver.’

‘He left just now.’

‘What did he look like?’ asked the accompanying constable.

‘He had a scar on his……..’ He felt a clammy hand on his arm. He turned around. It was the taxi driver; the driver whispered, ‘Run, they are not men.’  

He was too terrified to react. He heard the constable telling his inspector, ‘It’s the person who was murdered last month and his taxi was stolen.’

He opened the door but was unable to run; his feet had got rooted to the ground.

*********

A post for Three Word Wednesday

The Woman in the Garden

For us, engrossed as we were in our haphazard life plans, she was as inconsequential as the flowers blooming in the garden. She had been creating masterpieces for past few months at an unhurried pace. She was completely at ease with her paints and paint brushes and flowers around her. She seemed untouched by the noxious ways of the world.

We laboured from sunrise to sunset, chasing our dreams. It was an endless chase. But that did not bother us. We were sure that all the odds and ends that we had succeeded to accumulate were prized rewards and our incessant efforts were worth their while.

One day one of us chose to talk to her.

‘I too chased my dreams….and for years….till one day I realized that the chase was as worthless as the dreams that I chased.’

‘You seem to be fascinated by these flowers? You keep painting flowers?’

‘They talk to me….of their impermanence.’ She smiled. It was a smile as beautiful as the flowers around her.

******

A post for Three Word Wednesday and FFfAW

Conversion

There were no more than hundred families of non-believers in that town. But all these years they had no conflict with the believers.

One day the believers said, ‘You have to either convert or leave.’

Although they were elastic in many of their habits yet the non-believers were deeply attached to their culture.   

It was not an amusing situation; the believers were serious. The non-believers got terrified. They hid themselves in their houses; held discussions and came to a heart-breaking decision.

It was no use leaving their homes; they chose to convert.

Now they break the eggs the believers’ way.

******

Three Word Wednesday; word prompts- amusing, elastic, deeply.

Word count-100

The Dress

When she saw her prized dress she was dumbstruck. It was an expensive thing and she had to struggle for months to buy it, cutting on every avoidable expense, day after day and week after week. But that was not all; she adored that fancy costume. She almost broke down.

She knew who the culprit was; she had known it all the while. An anger rose in her heart, slowly but surely; an anger that could burn anything that came in its way.

She looked for him in every room and there were not many rooms in that house. She found him reclining in her grandmother’s chair; he was dozing, completely unaware of what was about to befall him. 

Her anger exploded like a volcano. Terrified, he tried to plead innocence.

‘Even if you kneel before me and lick my feet I will not spare you, not this time.  This is the third dress that you have spoiled,’ she screamed at him, her eyes burning with tears.

But he was a cool, clever cat; he knew how to mollify her even when her anger was beyond her control.

He let out half a purr and looked at her with eyes that were bewitching.

‘You nasty, scoundrel,’ she shouted and caught him by the neck. 
This time the cats's charm had failed.

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A post for Three WordWednesday

Word prompts- kneel, nasty, purr

Proposal

He was extremely polished and charming; she got swept off her feet.

She ought to have been careful; his voice was less human and more metallic. She could have very easily sensed it, if only she had not got carried away by his heart warming smile and twinkling eyes. Had she been a little discerning she would have been prepared for what was to come. His metallic voice should have surely warned her.

She was head over heels in love with him and she had been eagerly waiting for him to reciprocate her feelings and eventually propose to her. But he was always restrained in his feelings; always less than optimal.  

The wait was becoming heartbreakingly long for her. It made her desperate.  A time came when she could no longer stop herself; and, one beautiful evening, she proposed to him. She was sure that he could not say no to her.

He smiled and said in his metallic voice, ‘Don’t you think you ought to marry a human being?’

*******

A post for Three WordWednesday

Word prompts- polished, metallic, optimal

Thirst

He had been walking on the jagged, stony path for hours, not knowing where he was headed to. He felt an unbearable thirst; he kept looking for water but could not find even a drop to quench it.

He stumbled on a rock and fell into a ravine.

He was still unconscious when he felt a soft, strange hand exploring his face. He found it difficult to open his eyes but he did manage to look around. He was surrounded be an eerie, greenish light. He could see strange unusually tall creatures quietly moving around. He tried to get up but found that he couldn’t move any part of his body.

A fear rose in his heart, “What is this place? Where am I? Who are these monkey-like creatures?”

And then he felt a deeply warm and intimate touch.

“What do you think?” he heard a whisper brimming with irresistible desire.   

He was no longer flaccid. He looked into her half-closed eyes and smiled.

“What a devilish dream it was?” he said to himself.

*****

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Vulnerable

When they decided to kill her first unborn daughter, she protested but not vehemently. She herself was not much enthused by the pregnancy. She was not even nineteen and did not want to become a mother before her first marriage anniversary.

She acquiesced to their persuasion but her protest had annoyed them. That was not what they had expected of her.

But when they wanted to kill her second unborn daughter she reacted, almost violently. They were prepared; they would not be deterred.  They said, and with equal violence, that she ought to be grateful that they were only killing her unborn baby and not her. 

They literally threw her on the operation table with her hands and feet tied. The follow up business was concluded with clinical efficiency.

Third pregnancy sent a shiver down her spine; but her fear was of no consequence. She was alone and vulnerable.

She saw them talking in hushed tones and, like a miserable trapped animal, could sense what was to become of her. She wanted to cry. But she could not utter even a word; for them her feelings counted for nothing and her pain was meaningless.

She knew that this time it would not be her unborn baby who would be killed. They would kill her.

******

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts-annoyed, hushed and pain

Power and Politics

The king was nervous. He didn’t want to lose his throne.

He could see that while his enemies were jealous of him all his friends were envious of him. He was as scared of his enemies as of his friends. He knew he could not trust anyone, not anymore.

He chose to strike a deal with his enemies. He agreed to cede half of his kingdom and treasury if they would help him to crush his friends.

But, however calculating he might have been, his enemies did not trust him. They knew that if he could strike a deal with his enemies to crush his friends, he could as well enter into a deal with someone else to crush his enemies.

The enemies decided to talk to his friends before accepting his offer.

The king did not know but things were turning messy for him. Enemies took their time to respond to his offer. The delay made him uneasy. In desperation he thought it prudent to regain the confidence of his friends. But the friends were no longer sure of his true intentions.

They chose to talk to his enemies before talking to him.

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A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- calculating, messy and envious

Offer

It had an electric effect on him. Even though he was confident of getting a decent offer, he did not imagine that he would get such an unbelievable offer. He ran to the nearest phone.

When he was finally able to speak to his father he just could not find the right words. He knew that his father was passionate about his brilliant future. But even he would get a shock.

“I got an offer today,” he tried to make it as simple as possible.

“It must be good,” there was a tinge of apprehension in the voice.

“Yes,…. they are offering me two hundred thousand dollars.”

“……”

“But I would have to go to London,” he said hesitantly.

“How much is that in our currency,” father had found his words.

“About a million per month,” he said, almost meekly.

That was perhaps the amount his father would have earned thus far. He had managed to marry his two sisters, one daughter and bring him up as well. He was brilliant, no doubt, but father had to sacrifice a lot to ensure that he realized his destiny.

“I will accept it on one condition; you have to come with me to London.”

Father laughed; it was a hearty laugh.  He could not see but he could feel the tears running down the aging cheeks.

“You want to uproot us at this age in our life; no, don’t be a fool; just accept it right now and be with us for some days before you leave for London. Now I must go and tell your mother. She is the one who sacrificed the most; don’t ever forget that.”

Exactly three months later he reached London. It was the day when a group of terrorists, known for their violent and savage acts, attacked the airport killing fifty travellers who had just arrived.

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- electric, passionate, savage

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Misty Morning

It was a misty morning. He had loved misty mornings from his childhood. He felt so alive as if he was a bird flying majestically in the deep blue sky.

But how did this happen? There was something wrong; the incongruity was glaring at him but he could not figure out what it was.

He was moving through air, through walls, through trees, in fact through everything without the slightest hindrance. And there was his wife. She was not as tense and distraught as she used to be. But he could feel the silent tears rolling down her tired cheeks.

And then he was shocked to see himself, lying in that cold and heartless bed; but no longer joined to the ever humming and ticking machines.

He was at last free and alive on this misty morning.

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A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- Misty, Alive, Glaring

Speech

We all knew that he was notorious for making fiery speeches. But this time he had crossed all limits. What he had said was not just fiery, it was toxic; he was spewing venom like a viper.

And unsurprisingly he was inciting his band of followers against the media.

We were all nervous; all of us. We had all been highly critical of his actions and speeches. We had repeatedly exposed his hypocrisy; while he expected his followers to live like mendicants he himself lived like an orient king of yore.

Why his followers could not see that he was nothing but a farce was a mystery that none of us could unravel.

We had, all these days, been waiting for him to act against us. Therefore, his speech was not surprising. But what shocked us was the level of his anger against us.

We could feel the poison in the air; we could feel the eyes of his loyal followers. These were not the eyes of men.

Every one of us felt a shiver down our spines.

******

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- fiery, notorious, toxic

Fear

A malignant fear was spreading through every house.

In last three days seven girls had been attacked; every girl had her face badly scratched; every girl was too scared to remember who or what had attacked her.

No one knew who was attacking the girls. No one knew why someone was attacking the girls. There was an enemy out there in the forest but no one knew who that enemy was or how to fight that enemy. This ignorance made them vulnerable and nervous.

At this crucial juncture everyone was thinking of the old man. He was a wise man, even though he was somewhat quirky. He could talk to birds and animals and the spirits of the forest. He was fearless and even ghosts were scared of him. But they all had been foolish; they had annoyed him and he had left them. He just wanted to marry that girl. But the Chief had his eye on her.

The old man was sitting under a tree. He chuckled at the little monkey who was eating little berries from his hand. These berries were the best aphrodisiac he had ever tried. The monkey, like the old man, had taken a liking to the berries.

The old man said to the monkey, “They must all be yearning for me. They are scared and don't know what to do. Fear and apprehension is always killing. Should I help the ungrateful people? They are scum, don’t you think so? But if you agree I will help them.”

The monkey looked at his empty hand and growled; he wanted some more berries.

*******

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- crucial, malignant, yearning.

Shame

“This is the third girl you have given birth to. It should have been a boy; at least this time.”

He had almost barked at her. A finger probed the baby; and it probed harshly. She was a new born child but still a tiny wave of shame rose in her tiny heart. The mother cringed and looked other way.

As months passed by the wave rose higher and higher; she was often left gasping for breath.

It was her thirteenth birthday. She was fragile as gossamer. But there was no respite for her. He had since plummeted to the zone of beasts and mere probing left him angry. He regretted not killing her at birth.

It was her thirteenth birthday and she lay devastated. She looked at her mother. She saw her eyes; eyes that were bereft of tears. She heard her muted cries; cries that lacked courage.

The wave of shame engulfed her. She wished she could drown for ever.

******

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- devastate, gossamer, plummet

Suicide

She believed that she was not a cripple, at least physically. But she had a lurking suspicion that blood did not flow in her veins, at least not at this stage of life.

She had tried to kill herself. She had brutally cut the vein of her left arm. Not a drop of blood came out. She was horrified. She cut the vein a second time; and it was quite a deep cut. But to her dismay and shock nothing came out except the hurt and humiliation that she had suffered all these years.

When he saw her lying prostrate on the bed, one arm hanging lifelessly, he had laughed, almost like a hyena; he laughed as if it was a charade.

“Now you know for yourself, don’t you; you are a good for nothing person.”

She kept looking; not at him, but at the abuses, the accusations and the insults gushing out of the vein of her lifeless arm.

******

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- Cripple, blood, lurk

Deception

Whenever she looked at me I would instinctively become defensive. There was something in her eyes that made me cringe with apprehension.

It was her beauty that had both mesmerized me and made me overly possessive of her. But of late I had been nursing a lurking suspicion that she did not actually love me. She was with me, my heart had sometimes said, because of what I was.

When I first saw her, I fell madly in love with her. I was in love, of course. But I was, as usual, ever watchful. By upbringing I was a predator. I was overwhelmed by her beauty; but I had also seen her needy eyes. I knew that I would succeed.

Without any conscious effort my fertile mind had weaved a snare and I was quiet deft and remorseless in using it. She was ensnared. She was overwhelmed. And I began to believe that she truly loved me; that it was love that had brought us together.

But how could her love be true if my love was tainted? 
It was this taint; taint in my love that had made me apprehensive.

Her eyes were no longer needy, but there was something in them which seemed to say that she had seen through me. Whenever she looked at me I would instinctively become defensive.

Written for Three Word Wednesday

http://www.threewordwednesday.com/

Word prompts-defensive,fertile,needy

A Gifted Child

She looked at her and her heart swelled with pride. She instantly knew that she was a gifted child for she had the blue eyes, just like the man she had loved. She thanked him for giving the child his blue eyes.

“She is surely a gifted child for you are gifted man,” she murmured despite the pain.

She was so happy that she had almost forgotten the pain that was searing through her; pain that was intense, as intense as death.

***

He looked at the girl. He knew that she would not survive.  How could she after what she had gone through all these years?

She looked at him through her fading eyes. For a moment he thought that he was looking at his own eyes.

“It can’t be,” he said to himself without any conviction.

But deep within the rot had set in. He could neither deny it nor wish it away. He could smell the decay that had begun to overpower him.

.

*****

A post for Three Word Wednesday

http://www.threewordwednesday.com/

Word prompts- Gifted, Intense,Rot