My brother

Thank you Dorothy for this lovely picture

December 2, 1997

Today, Alen woke me up early. He knew well that I slept late in night but all he care about is discipline in life.

At times, he’s bossy but mother is always on his side and has given him every right to bring discipline in my life.

How could a big brother be so ruthless in waking his younger brother for a bicycle ride and that too seven in the morning?

I read somewhere that a child’s prayer is readily heard. God please help and take my brother away from me, he’s strict and I want freedom in my life…”

August 9, 2017

I just saw an old note in diary. Twenty years ago, I didn’t know the importance of Allen in my life and today when I bid him farewell, I realized his importace in my life.

Alen was my big brother, he was my friend but more than anything else he was the son of soil.

Thank you Alen for making me what I am today

May you Rest in peace bro

(174 words)

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The above story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by PricelessJoy.

Dearest Ava

Dearest Ava,

This is a cold winter day and while my fingers are busy in writing, my mind is strolling in that street.The cloudy sky of that evening is still fresh in my mind.

I and you, we were just two there. That was the last day of our university and while walking on that street, I had said that no matter what I would never get married and you in your calm voice had replied that sooner or later I would change my perception and here I confess that I was wrong.

I agree that marriage is the most beautiful relationship and never before I had imagined that life could be so full of colors.

Sharp and bright, soft and light this is now how I defines my life and when everyone complains that winter sun is getting lazy, I believe it’s still okay.

Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife.

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I originally wrote this for the challenge named it’sStillOkay, put forth by Prakash Hegade. This time on seeing the picture above, I found it beautiful and can’t resist re-posting the letter.

Thank you Louise from the storyteller’s Abode for the beautiful picture. Many thanks to PricelessJoy for hosting this event.

Story of a wedding dress

It was the third time that her door was knocked.

“Hey, we’re getting late”, she heard her sister’s tumultuous voice.

“I’m just coming”, after a moment’s pause she replied.

Outside everyone was ready but she was not in a hurry. Standing stock-still in front of mirror she was looking at the black dress that was lying on her bed. Tears were rolling down and she was thinking about those days when she loved to wear only white. Her mother often got angry but her father used to take her in his arms and said, “Don’t scold my little daughter. She’s my white fairy.”

Such was her sweet reveries and that very day was the reality. Her wedding dress was a gift from her in-laws. It’s been four hours and she was still hearing the echo of her mother’s voice

“Black is your husband’s favorite. He doesn’t like to see you in white.”

(153 words)

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This post is a response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Sonya for the picture prompt and many thanks to PricelessJoy for holding this event.

A fresh start

Her body endured an intense pain, the long fight left her tired and Amber confined herself in her room.

Her eyes were closed and she was still crying when she heard the door opened. She knew it was Kevin and feeling the warmth of his hands, she opened her eyes.

Kevin was looking smiling at her.

“Amber, believe me, your headscarf is beautiful than your hair.”

After a cold winter night, the much needed warmth of sun was calming.

On her husband’s shoulder, she cried.

Kevin knew that his wife being a survivor of cancer needed his support.

(98 words)

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which is an annual campaign to increase awareness of the disease.

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This post is a response to a flash fiction for aspiring writers.

 

Story of a Yellow color

No one but “Tweety” will be happy to visit us. That’s how my mother used to bait my father. Her complain was right. For, curtains and furniture in our home were all yellow.

Father’s love for yellow color remained a mystery, until a time came when as a student of psychology; I studied the impact of colors.

I always knew but never realized that my father being an orphan child lived a difficult life. His life was all about struggle and in the midst of all those difficulties he always remained calm.

This day was a hectic day and when I returned from job, I saw my toddler was busy in playing.

I took him in my arms and caressing his cheeks, I couldn’t resist looking at his hand. Clutching his yellow boat my son was smiling. His precious smile filled my heart with joy.

Life is all about staying hopeful and my son’s yellow boat often reminds me of this 🙂

(161 words)

(Yellow is a color of optimism, friendliness, creativity and confidence.)

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Written for Flash Fiction for AspiringWriters. Thanks Pricelessjoy for this opportunity and many thanks to Sonya for this beautiful picture 🙂

Story of a dream house

Standing beside the window, Brian was looking at the calm sea.

His beloved wife always wanted to have this home. There was a time when he was in a position to fulfill her dream but fate decided to take their test.

Brian’s brother got in trouble and needed money. Though, teary black eyes of Melissa made him sad, Brian remained stick to his decision.

The result of his pure intentions was sweet. After some years of struggle, Brian finally purchased that beautiful house.

He was still absorbed in his thoughts when he felt her presence behind him

Wearing white pull over, Melissa was looking fresh and attractive

“What are you thinking dear?” she asked

Gently pressing her soft hands he replied

“I was thinking about you. Are you happy?”

She placed her head on his shoulder and said, “I’m more than happy”.

Up in the sky the warm sun smiled behind the clouds, while embracing each other, they both looked contented.

(162 words)

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This post is a response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thank you Priceless joy for this opportunity 🙂

And, thank you Louise for this wonderful picture.

Well, it’s a year of writing on word press (It was in September last year that I started to post regularly).

These days, I’m trying to participate in flash fiction challenges. My sister think that there is darkness in my stories. So, at times I think that my readers will get tired of reading them 🙂

I actually enjoy reading short stories. The list of my favorite short stories is long but one of my favorite is Vladimir’s “Signs and Symbols” and “Happy Prince” is always close to my heart.

Dear reader, thank you for your patience in reading my posts.Your presence means a lot to me 🙂

Story: Linda’s Life

The life without children was lonely for her and in order to fill that vacant space, the kind old Linda showed great care for her flowers.

Standing in a window of my room, I often observed her garden. For, a neatly trimmed grass and the colorful bushes of flowers were a refreshing sight.

All day long, Linda kept herself busy in baking. In the evening she used to sit in her garden and the children from neighbor gathered round her. She was a great raconteur and while listening to Linda’s story, they also enjoyed eating her delicious cakes.

Painting was her way of expressing her feelings. Her house was full of her drawings.

I knew she was getting old and I was worried about her. Once, I tried to make her realized that she required some rest but she said

“It’s true that I’m getting weak but I won’t like to sit idle. I’d like to die in harness.”

Today, the garden is for children to play and enjoy themselves.

As for me, I can imagine her standing in her garden doing painting.

Linda died with her boots on.

(186 words)

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Many thanks to PricelessJoy of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The photo prompt is provided by Graham Lawrence. It is a beautiful picture.

My father’s Job

In my memory, the sturdy figure of my father is alive as a man of quiet nature.

In those days, I used to worry that why my parents never shared a bond of love.

Once, my father came tired at night and asked my mother for food.  Mother gave him a harsh look and started to complain about his meager income. Her screaming voice frightened me. On that day, I witnessed a great show of my father’s patience.

My father preferred to remain silent.

Later, before going to bed, I placed my head on his broad chest. His clothes smelled of hay. I loved that smell.

In his warm embrace, I felt a strange comfort. He said

“Son, You need not to worry!”

It’s been a long time. Today, I was asked to deliver a motivational speech and explaining myself to my audience, I said

“No job is inferior. It is the man who makes his job superior. I’m known as a renowned business man but few people know that I’m a son of a ‘horse groom’.”

(177 words)

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Thanks pricelessjoy of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers for this opportunity. It’s a fun way to write a flash fiction and thanks to Scott, author of the blog, Scott’s Place for this beautiful picture.

Bellowing train!

Those were the desperate days of my life when I was diligently writing stories and the publishers were ruthlessly refusing them. Once, I lost hope and decided to stop writing, when my sister asked me if I had ever observed a bellowing train and I said, “Yes”, for I loved observing things and she knew it.

Smiling softly, she said, “The bellowing engine is a call for life, Its “woo woo” is a note of happiness. Never become a stagnant pool of water, Go and tell everyone that you can write.”

And, from that day, I never looked back. It’s been a long time and, while scribbling down these thoughts, I can recall those last days of my sister. She was ill and was admitted in the hospital.

Readers often ask me that why I write stories about railway engines. The reason for my love for trains is my sister. She was my strength and lying on her bed she once said to me, “Anna, my life ends here but yours is just beginning.” (174 words)

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This is my submission to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.Thank you Priceless Joy for another exciting prompt. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Louise of THE STORYTELLER’S ABODE. Thank you Louise, I love this picture 🙂

Story: The magical picture!

On seeing this picture, I hear the echo of the voice of my late grandfather. He once told me that failure is a part of life. Like balloons, life is full of colors. The defeat is a process of getting experience and in this way a person becomes strong. So, don’t get disappointed and continue to move in life.

Today, I’m known as a world’s best neurosurgeon and this picture is still close to my heart. It reminds me of the day when I got failed in my entrance exam. I was downhearted but the very words of wisdom of my grandfather changed my life.I worked hard and passed exam in my second attempt.

My wife often gets angry but I can’t sleep without keeping this picture beside my bed.

It’s an unusual behavior but I won’t like to forget that the sweet taste of my success is an outcome of that bitter taste of failure.

I’m glad to have all these colors in my life  🙂

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This is in response toFlash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. This week’s photo prompt is provided by pixabay.com.

The word count is 173. Thanks Priceless Joy for holding this event 🙂