Rumour Has It...

this was my entry for a short story competition a couple of weeks ago. if you ask me i'd say it was just an experiment gone awry. so i'll let you judge, i'll give you a warning though, its not much of a story. so please be honest with your comments coz i really cant figure out why this story won the second place, i was just having some fun. the topic was 'rumour has it'. now what sort of a story can you come up with other than a high school story of gossip????


“Rumour has it that all dogs are cats, and all cats are dogs”, said Nosy Parker. Nosy and I had just settled down on the couch for a cup of tea, a routine event in our ‘mundane’ lives. Nosy’s statement might seem a little odd to the rest of the world, but if you live in Quipsville, it doesn’t seem odd at all.
Nosy works at the local rumour mill. The job’s a bore, so the lads at the mill try to liven things up by exchanging tit-bits about the town. Truth be told, the lads at the mill are the only reliable source of information as far as this town is concerned. So if Nosy says all dogs are cats and all cats dogs, there must be some truth in it. I find those little chats with Nosy a nice way to unwind at the end of the day. I work at Barney’s vineyard, and maintaining that grapevine isn’t a piece of cake.
Getting back to cats and dogs, Nosy said that he’d gone to attend the First Annual Canine-Feline Convention a couple of days ago. Apparently the growing disregard for pets by humans has forced dogs and cats to join hands and make a united stand. Both parties agreed that it was high time they stopped bickering amongst themselves. In the words of Nosy, “There will soon be a day when the cat barks and the dog mews, and together they’ll raise a cacophony that will burst the eardrums of every evil human.”
That’s Quipsville for you. This isn’t an ordinary town for sure. There’s a certain quaint charm that’s unique to it. I happened to first pass through this town eight years ago. I was on a trip across the country. I didn’t intend on staying here long, but Quipsville grows on you. I never left.
As Nosy goes on with his stories, I stare out of the window. Little Joey is still patiently waiting for the molehill to turn into a mountain.
Like I said, in Quipsville, everything is possible......

A Night at the Station

Ok guys after so many of you complained about my stories being too grim, i've made a desperate attempt to try something different. So please be honest with your comments. My mums already told me its boring straight on my face. And no she hasnt read my previous stories. If she does she'll be convinced i need help. Mothers tend to over react to such situations. A certain friend of mine beat me up pretty badly for killing off an entire family in the last story. The scars from the clawing are a grim reminder of my fate if i kill any more characters. So i earnestly request her to please de-claw herself before reading the story.
And yes, the idea for this one was not mine alone. Niyati was the one who got the idea and we worked on it together. Now i dont have the original script so had to improvise so in case i left out anything, sorry gal....

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Travelling alone by train can be boring, and its worse when the journeys long. Like last week. I had to attend a friend’s wedding, yup another one bites the dust that was the song on my mind all the way. But hey, I wish the guy well. Wait a minute, didn’t tell you who I am did I? Name’s Michael Kane, 5’10’’, medium build, late twenties, got me? Good....
So there I was on the train, overnight journey and boy was I tired. The meeting in office didn’t go that well. All I wanted was some shut eye but sleep eluded me. The train pulled up at some remote station somewhere round 2 am. Since it didn’t look like we were going to move for a while, thought I’d stretch my legs for a bit. I’m sea sick so walking on a moving train makes me rail sick I guess. I had to take a leak so I went in search of the washroom. Curse my luck, when I got out I was just in time to see the train disappearing over the bend. I checked the schedule; the next train was at 6. Had to wake the station master to inform him about my luggage. That done I had 4 hours to kill. And not a soul awake.........
With nothing better to do, thought I’d take a nap on a bench. Was just about to settle on one when someone startled me.
“Dude, that’s my bench!”
A quick glance around revealed no one, just a stray black dog who seemed unperturbed by any voice. Logic told me my tired mind was imagining things. I needed sleep.
“You deaf?” that voice again. Now I was beginning to get spooked.
“Who’s there?” I asked
“Don’t tell me you’re blind too. Look around dufus who do you see?”
“No one. Just a dog.”
“Just a dog? Excuse me!!”
“You’re telling me you’re a dog? Hog wash!! Dogs can’t talk!!”
“ True, most dogs can’t talk. I can though”
You must be thinking I’m nuts. I thought so too. But I was tired and convinced I was imagining things. A talking dog?!! That’s rubbish. I just needed sleep. I hear voices and I see a black Labrador. So I make a crazy assumption that the dog can talk.
“What’s with the incredulous look on your face?” asked the lab.
“I ‘m talking to a dog. You think I should be excited about it?”
“Ah! Humans....” sighed the lab. “You talk to a bit of plastic, watch glass screens and yet rubbish the thought of a talking dog. Didn’t you watch cartoons? Don't the animals speak there? Anyhow, what’s your name?”
“Mi...Michael” The hesitation was for fear of going crazy. “What’s yours?”
“The name’s Bond. James Bond”
Yea right, a dog named Bond. By now I was convinced I had to see a shrink ASAP.
“So this is your bench?” I ask Bond.
“Just my favourite seat Michael. You hungry?”
“Umm, yea a little”. A little was an understatement. I hadn’t had anything since lunch so I was famished. But having scraps from the garbage can wasn’t my idea of a meal.
Bond clapped twice, as if to summon someone. A genie appearing wouldn’t have surprised me now but I was expecting too much. A rat came scampering out of a hole in the wall and bowed before the dog!!
“At your service sire!” squeaked the rat.
Bond turned to me.” Michael, meet Max, better known as the rat that inspired the movie Ratatouille. He was a student of the renowned chef Sarla Balal. He’s worked with Ranjheev Kapoor as well. Max, Michael’s our guest today. Why don't you cook him something special?”
“Would you like some lasagne?” squeaked Max
Too stunned to reply, I just nodded yes. First a talking dog, now a rat that cooks. Maybe my mother was right. I’m getting too involved in my work. How else do you explain it? Garfield’s just a comic strip right? Max was off to cook. Bond was staring at me intently. And that was giving me the jitters.
“What?” I asked him.
“Oh, nothing. So Michael, what do you do?” This was one inquisitive dog.
“I’m a journalist. I work for The Times.” Feeling bolder now, I asked Bond, “If you guys can speak, then why not do it every time?”
“Some things in life are not meant to be known my friend”, said Bond with a very regal air. I was about to pester him further when out came Max followed by a lively bunch of rats carrying a platter of mouth-watering dishes. Corn soup for starters, followed by lasagne. And to finish it off, a delectable black forest cake. I won’t lie. Rats may have cooked it but it felt like heaven.
“Wow Max! That was totally out of this world” I gushed like an awe struck ten-year-old.
“Now that we’re watered and fed, it’s time for some entertainment”, declared Bond and led me to an alley behind the station. The place looked packed as if for a concert. From what the cat sitting next to me told me (yes, now a talking cat), the Pussycat Dolls were going to play today. Oh and this group had real pussycats no humans.
The concert was awesome but by now I was really tired. Just as I was about to doze off on my seat, Bond nudges me awake and rushes me back to the station.
“Hurry!! Its 6 already. You’ll miss the next train!!” Bond and Max made sure I was in the train. Just as it started moving Max scrambled atop Bonds head and thrust a packet into my hand. “It’s the black forest cake. There was some remaining. Thought you’d want some in case you get hungry again”, said Max. “Thanks Max”, was all I could manage. I soon drifted off to sleep thanks to my weariness. By the time I woke up. The train had reached my station. On checking I found my luggage intact. I realized I’d most probably dreamed up the whole episode. I was on the same train after all so there was no way I’d missed my train. I gathered up my luggage and decided to set out. And that’s when I found the packet containing the black forest cake.........

The Secret

I'd written the following story for a competion in college, so i'll have to warn you, its not one of my better stories. That's because i feel that stories should be written only when inspiration strikes ;-) but in a competition you're given a topic and have to build on it.....in this case, i was just given the title "the secret" ...... well i did what a could and this is the result. for those for you who have been reading my stories since high school, please read the note on the right(hey there..) the rest of you folks can just continue with the story......

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“Mother and Father looked so nice together didn’t they?” asked Lily, pointing at the family photograph on the wall. “Yes, they did”, replied her older sister Elena. “I wish they were still alive Elly, then I could play with daddy just like you did”’, said Lily. Elena wrapped her arms around her little sister and whispered in her ear,” I wish they were her too. You always were their favourite you know.” Lily smiled and then ran out to join her friends in the garden. Glancing out of the window, Elena could see her ten year old sister laughing and playing. She marvelled at how quickly eight years had gone by. Her eyes were drawn again towards that old black and white photograph in the wall. She let her mind drift back to what seemed like another life.
They’d been a happy family, her parents, her brother Mark and herself. Her father was a farmer, and though they weren’t very rich, they were happy and contented. Lily’s arrival into the family had just increased their happiness manifold. Her father would work in the fields all day while she and her brother went to the village school. After school, Mark would lend his father a hand while Elena helped her mother with the baking and the meals. Theirs had been a happy life.....until the war. Over the radio, they heard the prime minister urging all capable men to fight for their country. Father enlisted himself in spite of Mother’s repeated protests and pleas... none of them could dissuade him. “It’s the least I can do”, was what he said.
After a month of anxious prayers and waiting, they received a letter saying that Father had been grievously wounded and was being sent back. Elena could vividly remember the day Mark and his friends had carried Father into the house on a stretcher. Elena rushed to her father’s side and held his hand. But though he looked the same, he seemed different, distant.
Her father was a changed man. He recovered from his wounds quickly but all at home could sense the difference. Father no longer smiled and joked like he used to. He no longer went out to the farm. He just sat in his chair and stared out of the window all day long, as if he was afraid of someone coming. They often heard him screaming in the middle of the night, checking all the locks. The doctor said that the war had affected his mind. There wasn’t much they could do.
Elena shuddered as she recalled that dark night that changed her life forever. The enemy had attacked their village that night, setting fire to the houses and shooting the unarmed villagers.
Elena grabbed Lily from her bed and ran into the hall. Her father stood there with his rifle aimed at Mark’s chest. He was shouting and ranting insanely, believing that his own son was his enemy. Mother lunged at him and tried to wrestle the gun from his grip but she was no match for him. Elena watched, shell-shocked as her father shot her mother and then trained the gun on her. Elena stood frozen with fear, carrying Lily in her arms. “Elena, run! Take Lily and go!” Mark screamed. He pushed her out of the door just as Father fired again. Mark slumped to his knees, looked at her and pleaded with her to get away.
Elena looked at him one last time and ran. She joined the other villagers who were running away. They reached the next village where they were given shelter. Her mother’s brother came for them the next day. They lived with him now.
Elena never told anyone what happened that night. Everyone believed that her family was killed in the war. She didn’t want to tarnish her father’s memory. She knew that the monster who killed her mother and brother wasn’t her father. Her father had died in the war, it had destroyed him.
As Elena watched Lily playing, she vowed that she would never tell anyone what transpired that night. She would take that secret, that nightmare with her to the grave.

In Pursuit of Oblivion

well here it is,my first blog. I'd planned on writing another article but never got around to it.So i decided to put up this short story i'd wriiten a couple pf weeks ago. Feel free to leave your comments or criticisms.
NOTE: This is an amateur attempt of mine at writing stories and does not in any way reflect on my life or any incident as such. It's just a figment of my imagination.Have fun reading it:-)

She stood there in front of the rubble. It had been a full two years. Nothing remained there anymore. Not a thing to remind her of what once was, but remember she did. The past haunted her as always. Those voices, those faces, all refusing to let her be.
Did she really want to forget? No, forgetting would mean letting go. She wanted to have them, those nightmares. She willed them to stay with her. Only they could keep her sane. She’d lost touch with reality, living in the past.
She cursed that fateful night. Despised those responsible for it. But then, didn’t she deserve the blame too? She’d let it happen. She could have stopped it but she didn’t. Why? Had she been so blind? So naïve to trust Him? She’d believed Him, trusted Him. And He’d let her down. They said He always did things for the best. But He of all people had ripped her heart out, took the one person she valued above all. The one most precious to her. She could still feel those tiny fingers curled around hers. She remembered holding him up as he took his first tiny steps. Oh!! The joy, the pride she felt. She could fight the whole world, if only he was with her. If only she hadn’t faltered, if only she hadn’t left…….
Tears crowded her vision, they refused to stop. What right did she have to live? She couldn’t bear the guilt anymore. It was like a cross around her neck dragging her down to the crypt, down an endless abyss. She couldn’t stand it anymore, the guilt, the pain. She ran towards the cliff.
The rain lashed down hard. A thick mist hung in the air. At the bottom of the cliff she could see the waves crashing furiously against the rock.
Just a few more steps, she thought, a few more steps and she’d be free. Free from the guilt, oblivious to the pain. She took a few steps forward……..and stopped.
She could see him walking towards her through the mist. That cute, impish smile on his face, that familiar twinkle in his eye. There was something he wanted to tell her. She could hear him now. “Don’t go”, he said. “Stay, you’re needed here.”
She stepped forward to reach out to him, he was just out of reach. The look in his eyes willing her to live, those tiny hands reaching out to her. “You’ll learn to live again”, he said,” I’ll teach you. It’s not your time yet.”
She stopped just short of the edge, unsure. One small step and it would all end. Yet, should she go or stay? The wind howled all around her, edging her forward, but his smile held her transfixed. He wanted her to stay.
One step and she would be free. There would be no one to shed tears for her. They wouldn’t even know she was gone.
She made up her mind then. She’d die today to live tomorrow. Kill her old life and start anew. She turned around to a new start.
But fate had something else in store for her. It played its last card. A gust of wind blew by and knocked her off. She slipped and fell over the cliff.
No one heard her cry out as she fell through the mist into oblivion….....