Thursday 24 February 2022


The Owner

He slipped, unintentionally, and dropped the tray on the elegant but arrogant looking gentleman, unaware that he was the owner of the prestigious hotel. He was not even allowed to apologize and was kicked out.

He wiped his eyes and decided that one day he would own this place.

Twenty years later he stepped in that hotel and was utterly disappointed. There was nothing that even remotely reflected its glory of early days.  But he was not going back.

“Where can I meet the owner of this…”

The haggard looking man stopped wiping the counter and said, “I am the owner.”



A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101

Monday 21 February 2022


Crime Scene

She had just finished reading another book. She pondered, was it really worth the effort? Or was it just a waste of life?

She smelled the next book. No, it won’t make her a better cat.

She looked at old man and felt a deep sense of regret. None of the books had helped him. If only he had learned that sometimes it’s better to use your legs.

She climbed down, taking care not to step on the blood. She didn’t want to leave her footprints. She couldn’t resist a smile; she had read something about crime scenes in a book.


A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101


Saturday 12 February 2022



“Yes, that’s the Moon-rover; my grandpa invented had it.”

“You must be joking.”

“I knew you won’t believe it. But it’s true, my grandpa made it. It was driven on the Moon by the astronauts,” little boy claimed, proudly. His friend seemed unsure.

“Can I climb on it?” friend asked.

“No!” little boy almost shouted.

In the evening grandpa called him, “Why were you making a fool of your friend? I heard everything.”

“He always keeps saying that his father had been to the Moon.”

“Perhaps he is telling the truth.”

“I know his father. He drives one of our school-buses.”


A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101

Thursday 3 February 2022


Shah Jahan*

He lifted his eyes to look at the magnificent building. He felt a deep pain within. He wanted to cry but somehow managed to swallow his tears and cursed himself, “Why did I come here?”

Then a horrifying thought flashed through his mind, “What if someone recognizes me? There must be people in there who had worked for me.”

“Good evening, sir.”

He shrank back. She knew him. But he couldn’t place her.
“I….I was your personal secretary,” she muttered, hesitantly.

“We miss you…. if only your son had not been……”

 He moved away. He didn’t want to hear the word.    

(*Shah Jahan was a Mughal emperor who had been imprisoned by his son in Agra fort)


A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101

Friday 28 January 2022


Stained Glass

He was too stunned to say anything. He couldn’t believe his ears. He somehow managed to say a few words… usual words.

“Hello, how are we?”

“Good, you haven’t forgotten it. You are shocked, no? You were sure that I was…..” 


“Let’s meet….same place. They altered it, now it’s a fantastic…..”

He didn’t respond. He felt a tremor.

“What fun it was, to be young and……. reckless?” Suddenly Rayaan sounded cold and unemotional.

He wasn’t listening. He was back in Stained Glass and the brawl. He had wounded Rayaan, fatally. All these years he was sure Rayaan was dead. 


A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word Count 100

Friday 21 January 2022



The kid was riffling through ‘For Kids’.

“Grandpa, who writes these stories?”

“People like me.”


“Yes. There’s one in here written by me.”

“You write stories!”

“Will you believe that this one is my hundredth story?”

The kid was surprised and overjoyed. Then he asked, “How many days did it take to write them all?”

“Ten years.”

“That long…….”


“I could write ten stories in a day.”

“You’re a genius.”

Next morning the kid came rushing to grandpa.

“I did it. Guess how many stories I wrote last night?”


“I wrote thirteen.”

“I told you, you’re a genius.”


A story for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101

Friday 14 January 2022


The Bridge

Both of them, the old man and the child, were intently looking at the horizon. Where does it end? Both of them were wondering.

“Grandpa, is it very painful, this surgery?”

“Well, they inject some medicine. One is not conscious of anything.”

“You will miss me.”

“No, you will be always with me.”

“Where does it end, grandpa?”

“I don’t know, honestly.”

“It’s such a beautiful day. I wish I could touch the sky.”

“Dam it. We will cross the bridge …….”

“Perhaps it may never come?”

The old man got up. The child felt a tremor when he touched grandpa’s hand.


A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.