Soul In Agony

She sits, blankly staring at the ceiling above, oblivious to the pain and voices around.

They try everything to make her ….cry, scream, rant…any noise to show she is not beyond help. Days pass by, life goes on, and people by her door. She hears, sees, tastes, feels nothing....no longer cringes at the touch of steady, loving, caring hands that hold back a simmering anger as they feed her. Her father hears an agonised scream; first in months…the mocking picture in the paper …he has been set free…to hunt flesh again. No other victim, she decides, ready to fight him….

 (Dedicated to the latest victims of rape in my small city, a 14 and a 4 year old, may they find the strength to fight back...)

The Victim No Longer

Another night, broken spirit, aching body, skin black and blue. He laughed when she threatened to complain, the false sense of security his diplomatic immunity brought him....

She tolerated thus far for the sake of their child...whose sad eyes now saw what she sought to hide. Now or never she told herself, had been a victim long enough.

Letting go of family pride, she went to the authorities in her adopted land to complain....protection she sought from him, who had terror wrought.

Action was swift, safe house, her refuge...him, her country recalled, stripped of self proclaimed glory.

(Based on the the latest story in the news of the wife beating, now ex Indian diplomat, posted in Britain and called back by the Indian Government, his wife in hiding... and many such victims of domestic violence - both men and women.)

Fair Weather Pal

He followed her on her stroll, till the wafting aroma of chicken beckoned him. She was deserted again. So much for inviting her best friend.

The Conversation

“Will this ever end?....the Country is going to the dogs“, as he switched of the I phone. "I have stopped watching the news channels” his colleague while maneuvering his way through Bangalore roads. "Scams after scams...the Radia tape, land grabs,the 2G scam..." said the fiddler. The driver replied "Even vegetable prices are sky high...hoarding, corrupt middleman " while trying to cut the red signal ...Just their luck,a traffic cop emerges out of nowhere. After minutes of pleading their innocence, the first one slips a 500 rupee note into the greased hands, driving off without a second thought...

 (Based on the corruption and our own - Indian citizens contribution to the endemic.)

The Mischief I have Been Upto

Time to let out the talker in me...

I don't know about vous people, but I do a lot of blog hopping....

The world is a big fat oyster, how can I be satisfied with a few pearls of (not sure about the) wisdom (part)...

Anyway lets not dilly dally and move on to the Crux of the matter. As said above, I came across this fancy little badge in one of the writer's blog, Green monkey tales, me thinks...Your Badge

I write like

Chuck Palahniuk

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Now being a Gemini and a Bombayite, how on earth could I refrain from checking out new things (and guys, remove your heads from the gutter) ??? 

So the curious, consequently, bad girl in me posted a few short stories (those few hapless souls who do venture and are forced to read would admit, they are shorter than average posts) from her microfiction blog into their track box and waited rather impatiently for the analysis....

Guess what happened each time that almost, well almost...the doctor says she has a pretty strong heart.... gave her a cardiac arrest!!

 Her first attempt at a true sad love story was written in David Foster Wallace style (a guy she has never heard of before, now dead) and whose titles go like Brief Interviews With Hideous Men and The Girl With Curious Hair.

More shock was when her humorous take  on ear piercing was in the style of Stephen King, the famous writer of horror fiction.

 Worse to follow was that her true emotional story on the loss of a close friend was in 

H.P. Lovecraft style. He was a leading twentieth-century American author of supernatural fiction like  Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre, The Definitive : 67 Tales of Horror   

 Last but not the least , her one attempt at a love story and a tale of 3 friends at the mall was in Chuck Palahniuk style, the author of Choke, Snuff and Fight Club, yes, the movie by the same name...in this case the chicken came before the egg I.e. the book came before the movie...

Anyway, what the hell Am I supposed to make of this....I write sad and funny stories like horror novelists or love stories in battle style...

Serves me right, some might say....just like placing your hand on a flame is not the smartest way to learn fires are dangerous things....just like a trying a fag for fun's sake  at 22 and coughing your lungs out and eating 3 bars of dairy milk to get rid of the ash taste wasn't one of the smartest thing to do...guess, some of us never learn and off we go where even vultures don't dare ....they are busy dying out is a different story all together...

This self professed writer is at her wit's end...she doesn't want to drive away her few followers with tales written badly... so does she continue to write as before and dismiss the tool for what it is. a lot of bullshit or stop writing....

In case some among you are wondering if this is a post to get readers for her other blog, please be assured she has other stratagems in place to garner comments traffic namely joining poetry and story meme blogs...he he to my ex hubby who thought I'll never get street smart...

There, my pessimist twin is murmuring already....what? that like other better posts before (in her humble opinion), this too will not be commented upon...

So, before I take my humble leave, the one among you who has time on his hands and bored enough do read and leave a musing back....reward? did I hear, well, I will add you to my blog roll and if you are already there, promise to visit regularly...