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

Ghost Town

The train was late by two hours. He was getting worried. He had asked Ess to come to the railway station in his car for he was scared of traveling in a taxi late in the night.

The train should have reached the destination at 1030 PM; it was already 1230AM and the train was yet to reach.

“Ess would have gone back by now. How long could he have waited?” he said to himself. “If he is not at the station I will have to hire a taxi.”

His nervousness increased with passage of every minute, “It will be first time in my life that I would be travelling in a taxi in the dead of night.”

The train reached his destination. He quickly got off the train and rushed to the exit gate of railway station. But he was surprised to see that he was the only passenger who had got off the train.

“It is really unusual, I am the only person getting off and I thought that more than eighty per cent passengers were travelling to this place. But why are not these people getting off?”

Railway station was totally deserted; not even one person could be seen there. The silence of the railway station was loud and frightening. 

He almost ran and ran out of the station; hearing sounds of his own thumping heart and his fleeting footsteps.

Outside, the city was as deserted as the railway station was where he had got off. There was no one anywhere around. There were no vehicles on the roads. There were no voices or noises in the air. It was an empty city he had come to.

All lights were shining and shining brightly. But he did not find the lights heartening; the lights made the emptiness of the city stark and terrifying.

“Have I come to wrong place? It looks more like a ghost town,” he muttered to himself and rushed back to the railway station. He looked at the board on which name of the station was flashing.

He read the name and shrieked in horror.

********

A post for Magpie Tales on a picture prompt

Managing Crowds

When I heard that Mr Modi is taking crowds from here for slogan shouting during his foreign visits I saw a great opportunity for myself. I had no reason to believe that this was a mere wild allegation for the statement had come from the mouth of a seasoned political leader.

I immediately contacted someone who knew someone in Sangh parivar. That someone spoke to someone in BJP. That someone in BJP called someone who was related to someone in PMO.  Eventually my request was placed before Mr Modi (I was later told that every decision about crowd management is taken by Mr Modi himself) on the side-lines of G-20 summit.  

And since Mr Modi is a quick decision taker, I promptly received a 10-page questionnaire; Mr Modi wanted to know everything about me; how many times I had been part of managed crowds in India; what had been my substantive contribution as a managed crowd; what were my views on Ram Mandir; did I do NaMo jap, if so how many times a week; so on and so forth.

After I had satisfied ‘him’ with my crisp answers (I had been warned that answers had to be brief and to the point, I was to use not more than five words per answer) I was given four options but no lifeline to help me make up my mind. I thought that was insulting; if I was volunteering to be managed as a crowd then I deserved the courtesy of at least one lifeline for choosing one option out of four.

My anger and reaction unnerved many people who were not prepared to raise this matter with ‘him’. Eventually Sangh Parivar had to intervene; there is rumour that Sangh Pramukh was displeased with the poor management of crowds by the BJP. On their insistence every volunteer was given two lifelines, phone a well-wisher and double dip, before he exercised his option. Those who were being compelled to be part of the managed crowd were not given these lifelines. I thought it was a fair decision.

I willingly used one lifeline and called a well-wisher and on his advice I opted to go to Germany during the next visit of Mr Modi and be part of the managed crowd; I would be initially part of Hamburg Bhangra Group and later I would have to travel as a resident of Munich on a train to Berlin and cheer him at a public function that would be organised there.

But there are no free lunches in the world. Mr Modi being a true Gujarati had extracted his pound of flesh for this favour he had done to me. I had to give an undertaking that I would be part of managed crowds if and when Mr Modi decided to visit Timbukto and Burkina Faso. In Timbukto I would be a member of Timbukto Indian Association and in Burkina Faso I would be part of Indian Dance Group.

But let me say one thing quite candidly. I can’t help but admire Mr Modi’s crowd management and long term planning; he is truly a great leader.

First Flight

It was his first flight and he knew that if failed he would land on the rocks below and die.

He had been preparing for this flight for many weeks; nay, he had been dreaming and preparing almost from the time he opened his eyes.

He looked at the blue sky above and the deep blue sea below; both were just magnificent.

His father had already taken off and now he was gliding majestically like an ace flier.

As he took off he felt a lump in his throat and recalled what his father had once said, “Respect the fear rising in your heart, don’t be afraid of it, and it will make you an ace flier.”

*****

 A post for Five SentenceFiction

Word prompt- Flight

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.

Proof

                                                                               Photo prompt-copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

She stood still for some time; then she raised her finger and pointed towards the sky.

Everyone stopped and looked up. They could see nothing but deep blue sky.

She shrieked and started trembling, “Its happening. Yes, it’s happening.”

Everyone felt a scare. Everyone stood unsure of himself.

“There is something shinning in the sky, I see it over there,” said a girl. She was behind the woman who kept repeating, “It’s happening.”

One by one people started moving away; everyone appeared apprehensive; everyone expected something unseemly to happen.

The woman asked the girl, “Did I prove my point?”

*****

Word count 98

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt

Call of the soul

Image courtesy of freeimages.co.uk

Almost everyone disapproved of his idea.

“At your age you should not even think of climbing any mountain, least of all K2.”

“Well, if you want to enter history you may very well succeed; but you won’t succeed in your climb, you will enter history as the oldest man who died while climbing K2.”

“Last time you had to abort your climb when you were not even half way through; and that was seven years ago. This time you would not even reach that height.”

“Is something wrong with you?  Why can’t you live like a normal man of your age?”

They all said something like this or other. They all did their best to dissuade him; even his team members. 

But no one understood him; not even those who had been with him on many of his climbing expeditions; those who had tasted success and failure with him; those who had seen him suffer after every failed climb.

No one understood why he desperately wanted to make one more attempt to climb K2; that made him even more miserable.

He was aware of his age. If he succeeded he would be the oldest man to do so. He was aware that his ageing body could not take any more punishment. He knew that the climb could be killing. And, worse, it could be heart-breaking.

But he had to take his chance. Something within him had been, for last so many years, pushing him to make one last attempt to climb K2 or die in the effort. He had resisted this call of his soul for so many years. But now it was almost impossible for him to resist this call.

The team had been anxiously waiting for his signal. Time was running out and they could not wait indefinitely. They had to either leave within next five days or drop the expedition this year. They all wanted to leave without him; they were worried that he might not come back with them.

But they did not leave and kept waiting for him to decide.

He chose to heed the call of his soul. He left with his team. The expedition was a success. All six members of the team reached the summit. At last he was at peace with himself; nothing remained to be achieved in the life.

The team came back; he was not with the team.

A post for Light andShade challenge on picture prompt (given above) and a quotation prompt give below:

                              It’s hard to beat somebody when they don’t give up

                                                                                                    Babe